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rolling to Catch
59 + 10 = 69
FAIL

Rowan approached the boggy swampland with excitement brewing in her stomach. Tonight she was going to try and catch a Draugur, with the hopes of taming it and making it her own. She had a small bucket of blood and meat and bones that she had begged from the cook, and a rope that was ready to be turned into a snare which would capture said Draugur. She felt fairly confident that she knew how to set the snare... she had read a couple books that discussed the theory and had practiced a little bit at home. Rowan approached her chosen hunting ground and went to work setting the snare and laying the bait, then she retreated to a more hidden area to watch and to wait. As it turned out, she did not have to wait for long.

The Draugur approached the bait that the young Oblivionite had set out for it, circling the puddle of meat and bones and blood. Rowan hid nearby, waiting for the creature to land so that it would trip the snare and effectively be captured. Rowan waited on pins and needles, feeling so sure that her plan would work. She had read any numbers of papers, and was convinced that the simple method of snaring the creature would be the most efficient and effective way of catching it. She had not, however, counted on the inherent cleverness of the Draugur itself. It was a large one, and it was circling cautiously around her offering. But it's size appeared to denote a greater age and therefore, a greater instinct for self-preservation. It circled and then dipped down, catching up some of the offal in its beak without ever landing. Rowans jaw dropped open as she watched the large shadowy beast complete this circuit two or three more times, until the entire pile of food had been cleared. There was a sound on the air then, both Rowan and the old Draugur noticed it. And while it meant nothing to the girl, it was a beacon of promise for the bird, which flew away without so much as a backward glance.

Rowan watched the Draugur fly away in the dark of the night, feeling a deep sense of disappointment. The ability to tame creatures was useful, but it wasn't as if she needed a pet. It was more about showing her aunt Corwen that she was more than capable. Skilled beyond the average twelve year old. She had studied several treatises on the capturing of creatures, and she had felt so certain that her simple little trap with it's bait of fresh animal blood and bones would have been more than adequate to trap one of the shadowy, bird-like creatures that only came out during a short time during the year. Clearly, however, her plan needed some serious revising. Rowan frowned as she gathered up her supplies and deconstructed the little snare she had made. It wasn't a total waste of the night. She now knew how not to catch a Draugur, and she was wise enough to understand that this was useful information.