Head slot: Nocturnal Fur Hat : +1 DEF 2% less damage from Aiskala and Diabi Magic attacks. Chest slot: Back slot: Hand slot: Arm slot: Waist slot: Leg slot: Foot slot:
Posted: Thu Jul 17, 2014 10:51 am
Name: Zamanavyi “Red” [Za – ma – na - veh - yee] Nicknames: Zami, prefers to be known as Red to everybody though, and only mentions her actual name to people she knows, likes, and trusts a lot. Race: Fullblooded Dovaa Gender: Female Clan: Unchosen
Personality:
Red is a loud and furious little brat. Being a child, it is logical for her to have some immature moments, but Red seems to take it further than any child should. She is petulant, reckless, crass and mean, with no regard to social or societal mores. She's wild, pure and simple. Her family and friends – such as they are – have often likened her to a lightning bolt, for better or worse, as she is hot headed, direct, and sometimes unpredictable in her violence.
She is also stubborn. This stubbornness goes beyond stubborn and takes many forms. She will not do what she does not want to do, and no degree of punishment or coaxing will force her to change her mind. If her mind changes, it would be because she wanted to. At the same time, though, this stubborness manifests as a firm and unshakable resolve that will have her see a task finished at all costs.
Red has few friends: her hot headed attitude drives the less accepting ones off. But those that do stay find her more predictable than she seems. She is very loyal to what friends she has – from a very young age, she has been taught that the unity of tribe and family is bindingly important. It has been instilled in her that you can count on your friends and family and tribe... thus, you can (mostly) count on her.
Thus, Red has a thing about lying. She is very straightforward, and will happily offend you if it's what she perceives as the truth. She doesn't lie, she doesn't deceive, and most of all she doesn't trick. And she takes being lied to, deceived, and tricked very poorly.
Beneath the fledging, uncontrolled emotions, there is a white-hot, all-consuming passion that drives her forth. Whether its because of the approach of puberty or simply a facet of her being is uncertain, but Red feels her emotions very strongly. Happiness, sadness, anger, rage, love... all are felt to their extremes for her, making the shift between them jarring for her and for those around her.
Her passion is something that could turn into an obsession very easily, given the right target, and it could become potentially unhealthy. For example, say someone she loved jilted her. That betrayal would hurt her deeply and send her into a ferocious rage, and she might do something nasty – like set fire to their home, or kill their pet. Later, she might curl up in a corner and cry her eyes out, away from the sight of others. Still later, she might take solace in the thrill and joy of killing a dragon.
This isn't to say she couldn't move on – she could. She would be living in the moment, and that moment would just be very intense. She would be feeling it for a while, and she certainly wouldn't forget it.
Perhaps because of the dynamic and primal nature of her personality, Red likes control. That is, she likes to be the boss, and dislikes being commanded. She will tolerate it if she likes and respects that person, but otherwise, no. She wants to rule, and to subjugate people to her will. She doesn't have a strong enough will to make that work (and knows it), so she turns to the beasts of Magesc instead. She wants to bring powerful creatures under her command, and will happily travel Magesc looking for strong creatures to control.
Good: Energetic Protective Devoted
Neutral: Stubborn Jaded Loud Emotional
Bad: Mean Heckling Insecure Stupid Violent Reckless Immature
Post Color:Red, What else?
[color=#ED0400][/color]
Note: Zamanavyi thinks her name is too pretty and long. She likes people to call her Red, because its tough. Most haven't picked that up yet, though, and its annoying to her.
Red was born to two Dovaa in the wild tribe based in Ayr. Her mother, Naavami, was already second generation – she had been born into the Soldul tribe, and had moved later on after she had been initiated. Reds father, Kamen Svetdral, had joined after making a name for himself on the battlefield fighting for the Orderites, eventually becoming sickened with the senseless bloodshed and the tyrannical rule of civilization. Both were pureblooded Dovaa, but that didn't matter in the wild tribe, and, after some adjustment, Kamen grew to love the freedom of the tribe.
They had several children together, (and were perfectly happy to have several more) a boy, who they named Veterov, another boy named Rheshir, and a girl named Harashathi. After a slight break, Naavami gave birth to another girl, who they named Zamanavyi. Although they soon had another child, the younger girl Coyosia, who was closer in age and personality to her, Zamanavyi always preferred her older brother Vetertov. From a very young age, she dogged his footsteps, learning to hunt and fight from him.
When he went off with her father and the older siblings to fight the Mara, Zamanavyi was left behind with her little sister and the other children of the tribe. And she resents it.
Posted: Thu Jul 17, 2014 10:54 am
Home:
Red's home is with the Wild Tribe of Ayr, but Red is comfortable with any wild, untamed place in Magesc.
Thoughts on the Great Engagement:
Red loves to fight. But she doesn't think that this great war is a very good fight.
First off, she thinks the premise – dark vs light and all that – is stupid.
Second, the leaders of the war aren't even really the ones fighting it – they're sending other people to do their dirty work. Red thinks that is a sign of weakness, and the soldiers are stupid for doing it.
Third, its full of rules, and Red doesn't like rules.
If she found herself in the middle of a battlefield, she'd do her share of fighting, but she has no obligation to any of the sides, and couldn't care less.
Thoughts on Magescans and Hybrids:
Red has no respect for race, combination of race, or anything of the sort, only strength – physical but she achknowledges magical as well. Anybody she percieves as weak is treated with belligerent scorn until proven otherwise. This goes for Orderite, Oblivionite, Hybrid, Dovaa... anybody. Conversely, her own race/species is not a strong part of her identity. Aside from 'Oh. Hey. I have horns and scales', she really doesn't think about herself as of Dovaa blood. It just isn't a part of her sense of self identity, and so it annoys her when she is judged on it, especially if she is judged on it alone.
This doesn't mean she's happy-go-equality. She differentiates and discriminates against people, just not by race. She sees people as either Wild Tribe or not Wild Tribe. If you aren't in the Wild Tribe, you suck, and she thinks of you as a city dweller, equivalent in her mind to a stupid, fat Sheron (MOOOOOOOO) letting themselves be led to the slaughter. This applies even if you are rural dwelling or have never been to a city (though she hates you even more if you are from the cities themselves) – if you're not her tribe and not strong, you're weak, unless you prove to her that you are strong.
She recognizes physical as well as magical strength, but little else. Later in life, she will begin to accept that non-warriors have strengths too, and start to respect elders and scholars a little more, but her respect will always be more freely given to battle-classed, competent characters.
To people born into the Wild Tribe but who choose not to join, she doesn't understand their reasoning. Why would they choose the life of a spoiled farm animal over freedom?
To people who are born outside of the Wild Tribe, but join, she has an almost instantaneous and genuine, if slightly mocking respect for them.
Thoughts on Khehora:
Red has a deep respect for feral khehora. They are already – pretty generally – powerful. As such, anybody with a bonded khehora tends to get a bit of respect themselves – after all, they raided a nest and subjugated a powerful creature to their will.
Unless they didn't. In which case, she feels confused. On the one hand, they cheated and bought an egg. On the other hand, they have a powerful servant.
Either way, she wouldn't mind meeting (and fighting) feral Khehora, or having a bond or two of her own. In fact, she would love to bind a powerful creature to her will like that.
Half Khehora:
Red has no idea what to think of Halfblooded khehora, as she has never met one and is currently unaware that this is a thing.
Thoughts on the Dragons:
Dragons. The ultimate test of strength for a hunter, the pillars of magic. Red has always wanted to hunt them, and even the weakest of the dragons is due respect. Dragons are power. Dragons are strength. Dragons are everything she wants.
Naavami (Mother): Naavami is a Gaili and a second – generation wild tribeswoman. She was a surrogate child, granted to the mixed couple Koura Hallim (a Aiskala Dovaa) and Lorikha Salnor (an Oblivionite barbarian). A friend of theirs and second-generation wild tribesman Jekkorun (a Kiandri Dovaa) aided them in this. Koura and Lorikha had fallen in love with each other and grown frustrated with the war and with their societies, which would have them deny their love in many ways. They joined the wild tribe together and the smuggling operations out of Smuggler's bay, and this was where Naavami grew up. When she became old enough to decide things for herself, however, she decided to leave Soldul for the Celestial Plane, but soon decided that life in the city of the Dovaa was not right for her. She moved to Serenia and joined the Serenia Wild Tribe, completing her tasks there, acting as a connection between the Serenia and Soldul branches of the tribe. Later, though, she met Kamen, who had been in Serenia visiting old war buddies, fell in love, and moved to Ayr with him. Personality wise, Naavami is a bit shy and quiet. She's deadly with a bow and a fierce combatant, but she doesn't like to get into all-out physical combat, or even to shout. She prefers the life of a sniper – quiet, precise, to the point, and stealthy.
Lorikha Salnor (Grandmother): Red's only surviving grandmother, Lorikha wields a weighted quarterstaff, which she uses to intricate and devastating effect. She is a pleasant enough positive-thinking person - some might say merry- unaffected by the depression that sometimes afflicts (for good reason) her kind. She is an accomplished smuggler and troublemaker, though her activities are mostly land bound – getting the things on the ship, for instance, and making the deals that are needed – as she has no desire to ever actually leave her homeland. She is Naavami's mother and acknowledges – happily so – that Naavami is not of her blood. She herself could not have children due to an unfortunate stab wound that she survived long ago, and was at least satisfied if not happy (she was extremely happy!) to raise a child born of her lover. Though she shares no physical blood with Naavami, she instead believes that Naavami has her soul – the one that Lake Korafiel ripped from her own body at her birth, stolen back by the child of her love. Her wife Koura has since passed away, but Lorikha is not very upset with her wife's passing, or the raw fact that her own lack of a soul will mean they will never meet again. She is at peace with this, and likes to say, jokingly, that now Koura doesn't have to deal with her whining. She is still grieving though, just... in her own way. Lorikha, because she doesn't leave Soldul, has never met her grandchildren (though she would love to).
Kamen Svetdral (Father): Glory wears thin after a time, and after battle after battle and a great deal of bloodshed, Kamen was sick of it all. Once a powerful Ysali warrior fighting for the Orderite cause, He took a leave of absence from the Orderite army and went across Eowyn hunting dragons and trying to recover some of the pride he had lost. Along the way, he met a member of the Wild Tribe, who became his rival and soon occupied his leave with challenge and something akin to obsession. Soon, though, he was about to run out of leave time. His friend gave him a choice: return to the fighting, or come home with him and join the wild tribe and never be bound by rules and tradition again. Kamen thought about it for a long time. Just before his leave was up, he decided to go with his friend. He completed his tasks and settled into life in the harsh lands of Ayr. It took him a while to adjust to living with Oblivionites, Halfbreeds and worse. But he found it easier to live with them than to kill them, and soon became happy with where he was. He met Naavami on a trip to Serenia to visit family he had there, and took her home with him. Personality wise, Kamen is stubborn as a kugel and can have an even nastier temper when pressed. However, he is highly disciplined.
Rangion Melathirri (Family Friend): Rangion Melathirri, a Orderite/Oblivionite (Aedaun Warrior) hybrid, joined the Wild tribe with his Orderite father. That is, the small child followed his father in, and when he came of age, joined. He is a joyful but intense older member of the Ayr wild tribe, and Kamen's best friend and rival. A fellow sword user, they connected through fighting, and still frequently duel together. The rivalry has, however, cooled to more genial relations, and they frequently go off on hunts together. Naavami dislikes Rangion because it is not hard (for anybody but Kamen himself) to tell that Rangion is in love with her husband, and she won't let that slide. However, she also knows that Kamen would never betray her. Rangion may or may not know his feelings himself, but he also knows not to cross Naavami too badly. She is, after all, deadly. He is currently mated to a Ysali Dovaa healer of the tribe, but his eyes do wander...
Vetertov (Older brother – 10 years older): Vetertov is a Peisio that likes to use a spear. He is ten years older, but he and Red are as close as twins. He has said, in private, that it was as if he didn't know what life really was until he was responsible for a small one such as hers. They had their rivalries and spats, but in the end it was them, and them together. He taught her how to hunt and fight, and she motivated him to become better at it. Personality wise, Vetertov is very rational. Though he shares his sister's firey temper and passion, he is more cranial about it. Of the two, he is definitely the brains. He went off with his Parents and siblings to fight the Mara. Red hopes he returns.
Raeshir (Other Brother – 8 years older): Raeshir is a Gaili. He's gruff and tough, inheriting his mother's silence as well as her clan. Despite being a bezerker, he is, much like his brother, usually fairly reasonable and logical. Until small fluffy animals are involved. He ridiculously adores small fluffy creatures, and occasionally tames them as pets. He joined the wild tribe officially fairly early on in his life.
Harashathi (Older Sister – 7 years older): Harashathi is no fighter, but not out of gentleness. She is Ayrala, and as fierce as a storm and very much like her sister Red (who she persists in calling 'Zami' just to annoy her). Oddly enough, she is an assistant to the Ysali healer, despite her clan having little to do with healing. Her bedside manner is terrible, but her firey nature is at least inspiring, and she makes up for her lack of direct magical healing with a knowledge of herblore and application. She is close to her mother, but not to any of her siblings, who she is very competitive with. Not so much now, though – she's not stayed in the same tent or sleeping area as them since she completed her tasks.
Coyosia (Younger Sister – 3 years younger): Coyo adores her sister Red. She was the first to properly adopt the usage of that nickname. She is sweet and cheerful and would have loved to be close to her sister – she still tries. However, she remains distant from her and, even, is considered an annoyance. This saddens Coyosa at times, but she will continue to try anyway. When Vetertov dissappeared, Coyo felt bad because she was actually overjoyed. She saw it as a way to get closer to her sister. Instead, Red grew even more distant. One day, Coyo's frustrations may turn into bitterness, but for now... this Dovaaling is a little sugarplum.
Posted: Thu Jul 17, 2014 10:57 am
Battle:
Unchosen Clan:
IC only spells: NA
Attacks and Defence
PHYSICAL ATTACK:
Smash it! [Unarmed Attack] - 5 ENG DMG per ATK point: 5 Using her hands, Red punches. Thats all.
Smash it more! [Armed Attack] - 10 ENG UNAVAILABLE: ATK > 20 DMG per ATK Point: 10 Red sure likes her weapons...
A simple, unremarkable bow A quiver of Arrows Warm clothing, mostly furs A rough clawed glove A waterskin Sharp objects
Posted: Thu Jul 17, 2014 11:03 am
* = Not Counted ** = Already counted * = RP * = Hunt * = Special
In Progress:
Abandoned: X /// Roaring Wind | ORP Hunt X /// Triefan Fun | Taming: Esmeralda and Zamanavyi
Complete: X /// Paddy Paws | Solo X /// Left Behind XX /// Meta: War of Wind and Ice | Meta ORP X /// Jumping at Shadows | HUNT; Solo XX /// I want your Cow | HUNT, Solo XX /// Meat for us Both | Hunt: Naita and Zamanavyi X /// The Crashing of the Storm | Solo XX /// I'm better than you | HUNT; Peralian and Zamanavyi XX /// Test of Courage | Adventure; Peralian and Zamanavyi X /// Outsourced | Orb Turn in Solo XX /// Rescuing Cid | HUNT; Zamanavyi and Naita XX /// Finding Cid | Taming: Zamanavyi and Naita X /// Could have been Colder | Solo XX /// Can't Bear it | Hunt; Zamanavyi XX /// Above my Weight Class | Hunt: Zamanavyi X /// The Ferocity of Cold | Clan Choosing Solo XX /// Bare Necessities | Hunt: Zamanavyi XX /// Double Claw | Hunt: Zamanavyi X /// Grin | Hunt: Solo XX /// And Bear It | Hunt: Solo XX /// Rebel | RP Hunt: Zamanavyi and Xenosa XX /// Breath of Winter | ORP X /// Just warming up | ORP Hunt XX /// Triefan Fun | Taming: Esmeralda and Zamanavyi XX /// The Rival | Hunt: Solo XX /// A Friend, a Fight a Flame | Hunt: Solo X /// Set to a Task | Orb Turn In/Leader Solo X /// The Tasks of the Wild Tribe | Wild Tribe Tasks Solo X /// Red's Journey | Solo X /// Lets not get Immolated! | Hunt: Naita and Red XX /// Blaze of Gory | Hunt: Naita and Red XX /// Desert Dinner Bell | Hunt: Solo X /// GET AWAY FROM MY BROTHER | Battle: Red vs Raemos XX /// The End of the Journey | Solo RP: Red and Raemos X /// The Approach | Solo RP: Red and Raemos X /// Lightning Strikes Twice | Solo RP: Red and Raemos X /// Gone Fishing | Hunt; Solo XX /// Now Get Out | Solo RP: Red and Raemos
Three Months Time (January) O At least Level 30 O 10 RPs (can be Solo, ORP or PRP) OOOOO OOOOO 10 Hunting RPs (solo RPs included) OOOOOOOOOO 5 Dragon Souls Acquired and Saved OOOOO 1 Battle with another Character O Solo RP with Race Leader O Post Growth Quest Prompt Completed O
[] Red is, at this moment, plotted with Tana, one of Lithian and Casseth's daughters. Which will take a while. In the meantime, she is open to any pretty lady she can attempt to woo with her claws and strength and fail.
[] She will discover that her beloved brother is not dead, but he has left the wild tribe. Anybody willing to deal with the fallout one way or another is welcome.
[] Battles! Hunts! Let Red show you her strength!
[] Help with taming: Red sucks at taming, but she wants big strong things to subjugate so... help the girl out, would you?
[] Weaklings to bully would be nice, too... nobody said she was a nice person.
The little Dovaa girl kicked out angrily at the wall of the canyon, grumbling something unintelligable but likely rude at the stone.
"What was that, Zama?" asked the adult half-oblivionite, half-orderite hybrid, his voice good natured, amused, and teasing. "You have to speak up: I'm old, you know." He wasn't actually that old – in fact he was in the prime of his life. Age was not the reason he, Rangion Melathirri, had volunteered to stay behind and watch the children: Someone needed to keep an eye on them, someone who could really protect them if it came to it, and it might as well be him. Many of the adults that had stayed behind – with the exception of his Ysali Dovaa mate – were older, not up for the journey though not feeble by any means. If the mara chose to attack here, they could still protect the little ones and themselves. So Rangion himself was not old.
To children as young as Zamanaviel, though, who hadn't even reached her ninth bitter Ayr winter yet, every adult was older than dust.
"I wanna go fight, Rangi!" she said, glaring at him combatively, her hands braced as if for a fight right this moment, right now, with him. "Everybody else is fighting, and I wanna go too!"
Rangion shook his head, raising his hands in a peaceful gesture. "Zama, we've been over this. It's out of my hands. The chieftain doesn't want little kids in the fight - it's too dangerous."
"I'm not a kid!" shouted the little Dovaa petulantly, stomping her feet on the hard ground before and pouting at him, glaring. She looked so archetypically childlike (and, he noticed, hadn't denied being 'little') that Rangion couldn't help but laugh.
"Yes you are" he walked over and gave her a gentle, friendly push, “You haven't even picked a clan yet.”
She pushed back. "Fine.” she grumbled in grudging acknowledgment, “But I can beat up rocks as well as anybody else."
Rangion snorted and shook his head gently, smiling. Some – including her own blood-kin - found little Zamanavyi a handful. Honestly, though, Rangion thought she was a hoot: Of the kids that were being protected at the base camp, she was both the most troublesome and the most amusing. "The Mara are a little more than just rocks, Zami." he said, knocking on the canyon wall carefully, producing an echoing, stony sound without hurting his knuckles. "They don't stay still and let you hit them. They move and attack, like people do." he smiled down at her, "They even cast magic... did I tell you? I saw one..."
"Rocks cant cast magic!" she accused, but Rangion could see she was intrigued. It wasn't difficult to tell - Zama was an easy child to read. She was completely guileless. "... what was it like?"
"Big and rocky." she stuck her tongue out at him, and he laughed, relenting. "And they had magic glowy bits.”
“Like your eyes, Rangi?”
He nodded, pointing to the glowing lights that danced merrily in his otherwise empty sockets. “Yep! A lot like them! And they had no legs."
"Everything has legs." she asserted, with all the certainty of her youth, “That's how they move.”
"Not true!" Rangion smirked, "Serpents don't."
"Yes they do! They have one. Its their stomach! They slither on it!" she put her hands on her hips, daring him to tell her otherwise.
"Sure, Zama, sure.” It would have been too much effort to argue with her – Zama would never admit she was wrong unless she was taken to it and shown the truth, and there really was no way to prove that a snake's stomach was not its legs. “Anyway, mara don't have them. They've got this big glowing ball of magic where their legs should be and they glide along the ground..."
"Wait, they can fly?" she interrupted, her face creased into an expression of comic perplexity.
"I don't know." he admitted, "I only saw one, and then your father smashed it before it could do anything fancier than throw magic rocks at us."
"Was this while you were out hunting, Rangi?"
"Yes."
"Is that the one where you bagged a bunch of vildean with Papa, Rangi?"
"Yes. Nasty little critters." Inwardly, he flinched: he wished she had not mentioned her father.
She was quiet for a moment, kicking grumpily at the scrubby Ayr plants. "Rocks don't fly." she huffed finally, turning her grouchy violet eyes to him.
Rangion picked up a stone and threw it at the other side of the canyon. "Yes they do", he said, smirking.
Inside, though, he was worried. Her father was a friend, an old friend from a long time ago, when the man had still been an esteemed warrior working for the Orderites. He didn't know if Zama was worried about whether he was going to come back, but Rangion certainly was: Her father, once disciplined and rational, was, these days, reckless and impulsive. Rangi was just afraid that her father's new attitude and the freedom he felt in the Wild Tribe would get him killed. He bit his lip – he really didn't want to think about his friend dying, not when there were kids to deal with. He had to keep a smile on his face for the little ones, that was how it worked.
“Hey, Zama, lets go inside and see if there's anything to eat, all right?” he said, gently leading her away from the wall and towards his mate's lair. “Maybe we can get that old man to give you another lesson with a bow.”
“You think so?” she said, following him willingly, a look of enthusiastic eagerness on her face, “You really think he'll play today?”
“I think it can be arranged.” Rangion could be persuasive when he wanted to, and – especially if his lovely Ysali mate offered a bottle of home-brewed liquor under the table - the old warrior was always happy to teach the enthusiastic Zamanaviel.
“I bet I'll get a bullseye this time!” she said, skipping eagerly to keep up with the hybrid's long strides.
Rangion smiled. “I'm sure you will.” he said softly, stopping to ruffle her hair, mussed by her animal-skin hood, “I'm sure you will.”
Zamanavyi did not regret her decision to leave the creche in the main village and wander off into the wilds in search of adventure. She didn't care how worried Rangion or her tribe might be. She could take care of herself, she was not a child, and she could prove it.
Hadn't she killed one of the rock people? Herself? She had, indeed, and she had it's hammer to prove it. Sure that had been a lucky break and she'd used a rock and basically just flailed at it, but if she acknowledged details like that she would be someone else, not Zam. And definitely not Red.
But no, the big/small Orderite lady and the Oblivionite man had questioned her ability to fight like a grownup, and had made her come home with them and their children until they could take her home.
So, of course, being sore from her run in with the mara, pissed off, and eight years old, Zami threw a tantrum. She'd been left alone briefly and, with this 'freedom', stood up and kicked a pebble, letting it ricochet off the wall of their house.
”I don't wanna go home. I wanna fight.” she whined to nobody, hitting the wall with a frustrated fist. She jumped back, shaking it out and glowering at the red impact marks where her fist had met the wall. ”It's not fair.” she kicked the wall, stubbing her toe on the wall.
She hopped up and down on her other foot, holding the reddening toe in her hands and cursing vehemently, using words that an eight year old should not be using, not that 'should be' mattered to her. Tired of hopping, she sat down, hard and glowered, instead, at the door, beyond which the smell of food wafted in and tickled her stomach.
“Vetta!” called Zamanavyi, frustrated, struggling to keep up with her older brother. His legs were longer than hers, and he took one stride to every five of hers.
Her brother turned back, his deep blue eyes dancing playfully. “Whats the matter, Zama?” he asked teasingly, shifting his spear over his slightly protruding shoulder scales, “Can't keep up with an old man like me?” At 16, Vetertov was approaching the prime of his life, and growing to be quite an attractive young man.
Six-summers-old Zamanavyi stuck her tongue out at her big brother. “I'm keeping up!” she protested, panting.
“Oh, are you?” said Vetertov, summoning a ball of water, “Well, then you should have no trouble dodging this, eh?” It splashed against Zama's head, leaving a very pissed off little Dovaa in it's wake.
“Vetty!” she said angrily, glaring at him, her blonde hair drenched and dripping.
“Got you!” he laughed as she leapt at him, dodging her with practiced ease. He ignored her glare and, with equally practiced nonchalance, kept moving, forcing the little girl to keep up with him once again. Things were silent for a moment, some would say mercifully so – Zamanavyi was a loud little brat. But Vetertov didn't mind her. She made hunts a thousand times more entertaining than the repetitive Ayr scenery could provide.
“Vetty?” Vetertov could hear her footsteps padding along behind him. “What are you hunting?”
“What, you forgot already?” Vetertov snickered, stopping and waiting for Zamanavyi to catch up, making her scowl again, “Well, I'm hunting dragons, but if food crosses our path, I'll go get that instead.”
“Dragons?” Vetertov enjoyed how mercurial her face was, how it could change in an instant from one expression to another. One moment she was annoyed, the next, excited. It was always a game which way she would go next. “Lets go get the dragons, Vetty!”
Vetertov chuckled and shook his head. “There's no dragons yet, Zama.” he said, “And you can't eat dragon souls.”
“But dragons are big and strong, and so are you, so you should hunt them.” she protested.
“Yes, and I do, but food is really nice. I like to eat.” He started off again the moment she reached him.
“But Dragons, Vetty! Dragons!” she whined. There was no doubt about it – his sister was going to be a warrior. The thought pleased him.
“Yes, one day you'll be able to hunt them yourself.” he said, “But I'd rather not meet one while hunting with you. I don't want you to get eaten.”
“I won't get eaten, Vetty!” she said, confident, “I'll punch it in the face! Like this!” she demonstrated, punching at the air while bouncing sideways towards him.
“Pff.” Vetertov laughed: Zama was always such a hoot. “You do that, kid sis. You punch a dragon in the face.”
“I'm not a kid!” she said.
“I won't call you one until you can take me in a fight, how about that?”
“Oh yeah?!” Red wasted no time in pouncing at her brother who, again, with practiced ease, held her off. She flailed. “Lemme go!” she snarled, “Lemme at you!”
“See? A kid.” he put her back down, “Anyway, I found some Garghon tracks. They're tasty enough. How about lets get them?”
“Okay.” Zama pouted. She tried to mimic her brother's stalking stance, creeping behind him as he navigated the mazes of Ayr and the brush of the canyons. Finally, there, not far away – the lumbering shapes of Garghon.
Quietly, she watched as Vetertov lifted his spear and, expertly, threw it.
A Garghon cried out and fell, it's side pierced. The others fled, but that wasn't the point. Zama cheered and whooped. “That was a great shot, Vetty!” she said, dancing around him excitedly.
“Wasn't it?” he said, stalking over and removing his spear, inspecting his kill. “I think this is good enough to call it a day, “'less something else crosses our paths.”
“Lets hunt another!” she crowed happily, “Lets go kill more things and get more meat!”
“Well, your heart's in the right place, but I don't think I can carry another all the way back, Zama.” he said, patting her head, “Lets rest, have something to eat and drink, and then you can help me carry the Garghon back.”
“Really?” Zama loved to help her brother carry stuff back to the tribe: it made her feel powerful, like she'd killed the thing too. Not that she didn't feel some of the credit was due to her anyway, it just felt official that way.
“Sure.” he said. It was an unusually hot day for Ayr, so he setting down in some of the stark shade the canyon wall provided. Zama drank from her canteen; she didn't realize how thirsty she was until she chugged down the whole thing. He refilled it, summoning water from the air with a gesture and pouring it into the container. “Drink up.” he said, handing it to her again. “Heat like this can dry you out like jerky. You don't want that, do you?” he said.
Zama winced. “No.”
“Good. I'd be worried if you did.”
They ate and drank in the unseasonal heat and were just about to pick up the kill and leave when Vetertov shushed his chatty sister and pointed to a patch of rustling grass. He crept closer, hiding in the brush, Zama following suit.
Out of the bushes near the kill crawled a large, thin feline, stalking cautiously towards the Garghon, peering around it with gleaming eyes before, hungrily, biting into their kill. Red growled at it angrily, half standing. It was their kill!
But before she could do anything more,Vetertov flung his spear and the beast fell, dead. “Come over here, Zama.” he said, standing and going over to it, to make sure it was dead “It's a Notbjaovin. It's fur has special properties.” he began to skin it as his sister watched, “It's meat isn't good to eat, though.”
“I don't know, Zama.” he said, “It's just not good for you. That's what Ma says.”
“That's silly.” she said, crossing her arms, “Meat's meat.”
“Ask her yourself.” said Vetertov, folding the pelt, “Anyway, we can't carry it and the garghon, and garghon meat is probably tastier, so we're just going to take the fur. “ he handed it to her. “Here. You get the honors.”
He offered her part of the garghon carcass and they began to carry it back together.
As they made their way through the stone maze around the Wild tribe compound, Zama realized something. “Vetty? What're you gonna do with the fur?”
“Well I was going to give it to the chief and let him do something with it, but...” he turned, winking at her, “If you like it...”
“I like it!” said Zama, excitedly. The pelt was fluffy and dark and soft and tough-looking, and – now that it was offered – she wanted it. She wanted it badly. “Can I have it, Vetty?”
“Sure. It's yours.” said Vetertov, “You know, the Notbjaovin is a big fierce creature. If you wear its pelt, maybe you'll become like it someday.”
Zama hoped so! “And beat you in a fight?”
“Yup! One day!” said Vetertov, as they made it to their village.
“Tomorrow!” said Zama, grinning at her brother.
“Sure. You can try tomorrow.” laughed Vetertov. He knew she wouldn't win.
