vervolg op nieuw ding :p

Met lang uitstel, maar geen afstel ^^ tweede deeltje van "nieuw ding". Vanaf dat ik er een deftige naam voor kan vinden deel ik u deze mede :p Volgende deel van Gemiste Kansen is in de maak, maar zal waarschijnlijk niet voor volgende week op mijn blog komen. hf, kame ^^

Without a sound Ayilir spied on his prey, his bow held firmly in his left hand, while taking an arrow from the quiver on his back with his right. He was only a few miles away from his own village, so stumbling upon this wild animal was a lucky coincidence. Calmly he prepared to shoot the wild boar, getting his aim and his feeling just right. He rarely missed, and didn't plan on changing that habit. He released the arrow fluently, and saw it slip flawlessly through the beasts neck right into its' brain. With a dull thump the boar fell down onto the ground, lifeless. Ayilir carefully came out of the bushes, his leather boots cracking slightly. No sign of any other animal, though he sensed something near, and held on to another arrow. A small branch snapped behind Ayilir, who quickly turned around, while grabbing the knife from his holster on his belt. The noise was too close for any arrow to be useful. He smiled, seeing only a squirrel, looking at him most interestedly, while eating an acorn. The hunter turned around again, picked up his heavy catch for today, and went on to his village. The main road wasn't far from where he was, and much safer than the woods, so Ayilir didn't hesitate to take it. Wolves were never too far away, he knew that all too well remembering his last encounter, but the main road usually was off limits to them during daytime. The boar was quite large for one man to carry, making him breathe heavily as he carried it, but as always, he endured it. His strength rarely failed him, though he wasn't any taller or more muscular than the others in his village. His stay at the steed made him look a little frail even. A rumbling sound was steadily getting louder, he looked over his shoulder, and saw it was a wagon, marked with the imperial seal on both sides. The wagonner, an elderly man with brushes of grey in his short hairs, smiled gently at him, and halted the horses. “Would you care for a ride to the village?” He asked Ayilir “You seem to be carrying a heavy load.” The hunter nodded, in silence agreeing to come along. After putting his catch of the day into the back of the wagon, he noticed while passing by the window, there was a passenger. A young woman wearing a lightgrey robe with strange markings. “Must be a sorceress” he thought. The rider looked behind him and said: “So you've noticed my dear passenger, haven't you? You should let her rest for now, she's been on the road for a long time now.” Ayilir climbed up next to the rider and together they continued to the village. Once there he thanked the rider, took his boar, and went on his way home, not noticing the riders' stare as he saw him pick up his loot, throw it over his shoulder as easily as if the boar was air, wrapped by a chunk of hide, and calmly walked away. The wizards' servant rode further, stopping in front of the only inn of the village, The Rusty Dragon. Local myths and superstition were the only things keeping these so-called monsters in people's thoughts and fears. Every man who had traveled would tell you they were a myth, nothing more.