The Wandering Candidate

[Terayne]

It was a fairly quiet day within the shadowed depths, the noises muffled by the foliage through which the figure moved. Jet black eyes turned constantly, always on guard against the creatures that lived within the forest depths, and a strung bow was held easily within the talented hands. The bow had been a necessary precaution learned when he moved to the region, and he'd proven adept at it, though there were others who were far superior, and he held it silently as he slipped through the forest.

After roughly an hour, he began to notice something, and he stopped, head rising slightly, wind shifting through his hair as he went still, just listening. The silence was deafening, now he was paying attention, and his eyes narrowed as he listened intently, seeking some clue as to the sudden lack of sound....

[Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro)]

The full grown Viarth, at 31 feet long, found it impossible to enter the deepest parts of the jungle. It was that fact that elevated such places from merely “interesting” to “amazing-interesting-must-see-now”.

K’tar and Viarth had a break in their schedule.

Therefore, K’tar was in the depths of the jungle, with Viarth tacking back and forth out of sight over the trees. A sort of calm, peaceful silence followed K’tar about, so that he could actually hear the occasional wingbeat as Viarth maneuvered towards the next thermal. It felt pretty good to be roaming the jungle without worrying about whether there were any pursuers nearby; even better that there was no one tracking their time, demanding they show up for this class or that. Three months and a sevenday since graduation, and K’tar was still basking in that freedom.

He’d been roaming for awhile, examining those things that neither he nor Viarth recognized, when he came around a tree almost right into another young man, maybe a handful of years older than himself, and carrying a bow ready to hand. K’tar froze, surreptitiously flicking his right wrist, twisting the arm as he did so, so that the throwing knife he kept sheathed there dropped down into his grip. He kept it out of sight behind the waist high bush he was standing next to though, not wanting to escalate the situation without cause.

[Terayne]

Head turned at a slight rustle, the bow shifting upwards, an arrow nocked-having been ready to hand-and aimed. Those dark eyes again searched, tension obvious in every inch of the youth's frame. The knots of a Healer and Eyrie Candidate were plain on his left breast, their colors a stark contrast to the rich brown of his tunic, and his very stillness made them that much easier to see.

Now he was listening, he heard the sounds from above, and his eyes rose, catching a very brief glimpse of the Purple soaring overhead. Almost immediately, he calmed, knowing if the dragon was present, a rider had to be somewhere near, either on the beast or in the forest with him. That decided, Querin cocked his head slightly, watchful still, but more relaxed. "Come on out rider. That is, if you can hear me. I didn't mean to threaten you." His voice was soft, carrying just far enough.

[Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro)]

K’tar froze, his eyes flicking over the young man, then between him and the surroundings. Yes the young man had the shoulder knots of both a Healer and an Aerie Candidate, but those could be faked, after all he’d faked a set once, and…

K’tar snorted quietly at the direction of his own thoughts. No matter how much he had considered himself immune, it seemed that even he could feel jumpy this far from the Weyr.

Besides, he already knows I’m here, he thought, having ascertained that, as far as he could tell, the chestnut-haired, slightly taller young man was completely alone.

…and even if he shoots at me, I can probably dodge behind this tree again, and once it comes down to a race through the undergrowth here, he’d have a hard time getting off shots. In K’tar’s experience, this meant that in this case, the best defense was a good offense.

“Here,” K’tar called out clearly, stepping out from behind the tree with a wry smile for the fact that he’d missed the knots.