Who

Kultir, Renalde

What

Has Kultir been sent on a wild avian chase?

When

It is evening of the twenty-second day of the tenth month of the first turn of the 12th pass.
In Southern:
It is the eighty-second day of Spring and 86 degrees. The night is clear and humid.
In Southern Mountains:
It is the eighty-second day of Spring and 14 degrees. It's cold and dark out.

Where

Base Camp, Ice Fields, New Hold at the Southern Barrier Range

OOC Date

 

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Base Camp

Here rises the dark-grey monolith of massive caverns, open-facing and airy. The arches, far above, make this space ill-equipped for centralized heating but excellent for campfires. The caves go deep, grey-walled caverns that tempt with enigmatic promise. Some are lofty as this main entrance; some are cozy enough for a tall man to bump his head. They all lie in nascent mystery, ripe and ready for the claiming by those strong enough to hold them.


Renalde really isn't the kind of person that camps. Quite frankly, his well pressed suits are more than a bit strange in the icy fields of the north, even covered are they by the furs he has made for just such organization. Sometime recently a shipment of supplies has been dropped off and the headman is going through them case by case, directing workers down towards the tunnels which will become home to those supplies.

Kultir is more than comfortable camping; here, the savannah, the foothills, the jungle, doesn't matter to the burly tracker. Today is a different story. He's taken his few hour shift of toting lanterns and flags to the cave explorers and helping with the sampling and now he's hunkered down next to a brazier getting warm. A short distance away, he can hear and see the Headman bundled in furs and directing workers to take supplies into the already explored and declared safe caverns. The young tracker holds his gloved hands toward the heat of the brazier, his breath pluming past his thick scarf in a sigh as the warmth seeps through the thick wherhide, fur-lined gloves.

When the final boxes are unloaded and Renalde settles their contents into the comptent hands of his workers, he tucks those long fingers of his into gloves again and sticks them into pockets. Breath, visible here this far south, issues from his mouth as he turns. The brazier draws him forward and that is where he begins to walk. "Kultir." It's a greeting.

Kultir's habitual alertness when in unfamiliar territory keeps him from startling at the greeting as the older man approaches the brazier. "Headman Renalde." There is a smile in his voice even if his scarf prevents the other from seeing it. "Only thing missing here is a hot mug of mulled wine to warm the innards." The young hunter knows that he'll be back in the warmth of the southern Weyr soon enough, but the chill is starting to make his joints ache and the temperature is just going to drop now that the sun has been down for a while.

Renalde pauses by the brazier, though he doesn't do anything as common as pull his hands out to warm them. No. Instead he just stands there and looks around. "Have you gotten a chance to search out trap lines that the wildlings might be able to take over when you return south?" It's always work for Renalde. Always work.

Kultir shifts his hands so that the backs warm as well as the palms and the warm air can waft up into his sleeves at the same time. At the older man's question, he shakes his head slightly. "Not yet. I need light to scout out new lines and so far I've been on work crews during the light hours down here." Gesturing to one of the crates covered in a thick fur to keep out the chill, he glances up at the Headman. "You might want to sit down, let the blood recirculate and warm your feet up. Sir." Was that an order or a suggestion? Probably a bit of both, the hunters natural inclination to keep others safe in extreme environments. "I'm staying over tonight and I'm not on a crew tomorrow so maybe I'll have some time to scout out a few lines if I'm lucky."

"An oversight." Renalde sounds rather thoughtful as he looks over the head of the man crouched beside the small fire. "I should have had you out doing that the moment you came. Would you consider stayin on an extra day to get those set up before you return south?" Look, it's even phrased as a SUGGESTION rather than an order. Eyes, matching the ice around them in coolness, shift their gaze to rest upon the hunter again.

Kultir tilts his head slightly to one side as he considers the Headman's question, the tone of the words a little confusing to the young hunter. Amber eyes reflect the light that shines from the openings of the brazier turning them into liquid fire as he studies what he can see of Renalde's face. "I can probably do that, provided I find a likely area. I can scout tomorrow during the … what is it, four hours of light? Then the next day I can set the traps and snares so long as you've got someone who's going to stay up here to check them." The young man's gaze drops as he pulls his hands in and counts off days silently on his fingers, his muttered words going with each finger as to what he's got going on before he nods in satisfaction. "That should put me back in Southern for Fall, and the day after I can leave for that sevenday hunting trip to the savannahs for caprines and porcines." The young man sighs softly in relief that he'd pulled his own lines before coming up here for the day and a half he'd planned on being here.

At this Renalde pulls a hand out of his pocket and waves it as if the concern of the young man's is of no importance. "The wildthings, for all they are use to the warm further north, are egar to be getting back out into the wild again. This dwelling in caves is not always their cup of tea." Renalde's mouth open again, as if he might say something more when a man who looks to be about mid twenties comes running up. Holding up a finger to Kultir, Renalde steps aside for a moment. "I'm telling you Renalde. We saw what we saw. There is something living out there on the ice."

Kultir's gaze returns to the older man and nods slightly, the few wildmen he's worked with having been rather more keen than he was to get outside the Weyr environs. "They make great hunters on my long treks, I'll tell you that." The approval is thick in his tone, never having had a problem with the wildlings in general. When a younger man comes running up, his glance moves between the two as the overheard comments perk his interest. Something living out on the ice? That sounds promising. His curiosity urges him to ask a myriad of questions but his common sense tells him that the Headman would not appreciate that at all.

Renalde's tone takes on a hint of sharpness, "Nonsense. You're allowing the strange light here to cause you to jump at shadows." The headman turns to return to talking to Kultir when the other man actually reaches out and grabs Renalde's arm. "I saw it." Renalde's pose, already stiff as it typically is becomes more so. He could easily be one of the ice statues that the workers had pondered building once the hold is completely set up. "You will get control over your imagination. There are no large creatures covered in fur which live upon the ice here. If there were, the riders would have spotted them when they thoroughly explored this area. I will hear no more of this, do you understand me? I'll not have people afraid to come north when this is the perfect sanctuary."

Hearing the tone of the younger man's voice, Kultir frowns at the Headman's resistance to the idea that there might be something larger than the small animals he's asked about trapping lines for. "Now, just a moment, Headman. There's no reason at all that a larger creature might not be around. Riders can only see so much and if it's seen from directly above it might have such good camoflage that it wouldn't be readily noticable." The young hunter pushes to his feet and moves around the brazier to where the two stand. "You've asked me to scout out and set traplines for them to take over. Let me see if I can find this elusive beast they say they've seen." Turning to the young man, he scrutinizes what he can see of the other's face. "Was it aggressive or did it act more like a herdbeast? Was it alone? What did it look like besides large and covered in fur?"

The man in question seems relieved that someone is going to take his concerns serious. So he'll turn away from the headman towards Kultir. "Taller than a man it was. Didn't.. see it real well, it was late in the daylight here, and mostly shadows. But I know I saw it, alone, and I saw footprints." Renalde's lips are a thin line. "Footprints which you could not lead us to when you returned." His voice is sharp, but finally he lets out a sigh. "Very well. You may look for his beast, but you'll spread no rumors about it. If asked say that nothing has been proven," and he casts a dark look at the man looking vindicated that someone is willing to take his side.

Blinking slightly in surprise, Kultir turns to Renalde and lifts a hand questioningly. "When have you ever heard of me gossiping and spreading rumors, Headman? I will ask questions, wonder and ponder but I don't spread rumors, sir." There is a touch of offense in his tone before he turns back to the young man, continuing to frown as he mulls over the other's words. "Taller than a man? Hmm, I've never seen anything that large outside of dragons, but that doesn't mean it doesn't exist." His hand lifts to shove his scarf downwards as his gloved fingers pick at his lower lip thoughtfully as his eyes go distant in thought. Looking back up at the young man, he nods though his frown doesn't disappear. "I want you with me at first light tomorrow. You're going to take me out to where you think you saw this thing." Turning back to the Headman, he nods slightly. "I take my job as seriously as anyone else, sir. I'll make sure that some tangible sign is found of the creature if there is anything to be found. Footprints, scat, hair, den … something, so that you'll know one way or another."

Renalde does not take kindly to his orders being countermanded. However, he can see the pointlessness of continuing this argument. With a shake of his head he will fully give in. "Very well. You with both go out, though Kultir, it is imperative that the trap lines are laid for those who are to dwell here. You will take care of that before allowing this one to take you off on his flights of fancy. If I should hear that you have taken any time to care for this I will see to it that you remain up north for an extra sevenday." With that warning Renalde turns on heel and stalks back inside of the caves, where his voice can then be heard micromanaging someone else.

Kultir doesn't take well to threats, especially against his freedom of movement when he's got hunting trips planned to help provide for the Weyr. The young man's posture stiffens as the Headman turns and leaves to manage someone else's work and shakes his head as he heaves a deep sigh. "Okay. Well, we have our orders so I'll see you in the morning … an hour before first light so we can get our gear and some breakfast before we head out. I'll take you out to scout the traplines and then we'll go look for this elusive creature." He offers his heavily gloved hand for a shake before returning to the brazier, his fingers starting to get a little numb once more.

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