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The Trilune Year
Daylight scattered through the ochre canopies of the Rexval Forest as the village of Amenos awoke to a new day.
She was a barefoot woman, young and strong as she appeared with crystal blue eyes as deep as the ocean’s depths. ‘I see, I’m very much grateful, my Elder.’ She smiled sweetly, despite the obvious scars on her face as she turned from the hunching Caninefolk woman with an exasperated expression, walking back towards her house at the edge of the village.
It was a small house made of wood and straw, built around a fireplace with a small hole at the top for smoke to escape from the fire inside. The woman entered the house through a doorway that was covered by a curtaining tapestry from the inside, to be met with a familiar sight she sees every morning since the day she arrived.
‘Manar!’ Loudly, she shouted. Her crystalline voice rang great with the fury of a thunder, if not of an angry-mother-with-questions-most-desperately-needing-answers.
At the other side of the warmly-shadowed house, a brass-furred head with floppy ears laid visible amidst the pile of soft animal skins. A gentle snore could be heard, and it was not the response the woman had wanted at the time.
She went outside and fetched a pail of water from the village well, returning to her humble abode in a hurry.
Looming just above the skins was the woman with a mischievous glint in her eyes. ‘Manar~’ She lovingly stretched her voice as she called out to the creature softly.
Its ears twitched otherwise, still fast asleep.
With the fury of a torrent coming down upon the skins with a resounding splash, the creature alighted to a rude awakening. ‘I’m up! I’m up!’ Panicked golden eyes wide awake with apprehension, and a similarly-golden pelt-like sheen covered the creature’s being. Its wet nose was even wetter than it should have been, and it reeked of a literal wet dog.
‘Manar, do you remember what day it is today?’ The woman asked sternly.
There was a brief silence, and soon, Manar answered. ‘…the hunter’s rite of passage?’
‘Good, at least you remember that much after what you did with the elder’s daughter last night.’ She huffed, and took a bandaged sword that was leaning on a wall behind her. ‘Now think fast.’ The woman jumped over the fireplace and threw the sword at Manar in a spin.
In a split second, Manar left the pile of skins and gained immediate footing on the wooden floorboards, deftly shot his hand forward and grabbed the sword by the hilt in mid-flight. ‘Not in the house, you do realize you could’ve left a hole in the wall with that throw?!’ He stood upright, wide awake as he brandished the sword.
The scar-faced lady laughed heartily. ‘It just means I can trust where it lands, now get dressed! It begins this high noon, and we’re expecting visitors!’ She took from a nearby wooden shelf several belongings and a set of clothes. Manar was about to fall asleep standing when a towel flew into his face.
Daylight scattered through the ochre canopies of the Rexval Forest as the village of Amenos awoke to a new day.
She was a barefoot woman, young and strong as she appeared with crystal blue eyes as deep as the ocean’s depths. ‘I see, I’m very much grateful, my Elder.’ She smiled sweetly, despite the obvious scars on her face as she turned from the hunching Caninefolk woman with an exasperated expression, walking back towards her house at the edge of the village.
It was a small house made of wood and straw, built around a fireplace with a small hole at the top for smoke to escape from the fire inside. The woman entered the house through a doorway that was covered by a curtaining tapestry from the inside, to be met with a familiar sight she sees every morning since the day she arrived.
‘Manar!’ Loudly, she shouted. Her crystalline voice rang great with the fury of a thunder, if not of an angry-mother-with-questions-most-desperately-needing-answers.
At the other side of the warmly-shadowed house, a brass-furred head with floppy ears laid visible amidst the pile of soft animal skins. A gentle snore could be heard, and it was not the response the woman had wanted at the time.
She went outside and fetched a pail of water from the village well, returning to her humble abode in a hurry.
Looming just above the skins was the woman with a mischievous glint in her eyes. ‘Manar~’ She lovingly stretched her voice as she called out to the creature softly.
Its ears twitched otherwise, still fast asleep.
With the fury of a torrent coming down upon the skins with a resounding splash, the creature alighted to a rude awakening. ‘I’m up! I’m up!’ Panicked golden eyes wide awake with apprehension, and a similarly-golden pelt-like sheen covered the creature’s being. Its wet nose was even wetter than it should have been, and it reeked of a literal wet dog.
‘Manar, do you remember what day it is today?’ The woman asked sternly.
There was a brief silence, and soon, Manar answered. ‘…the hunter’s rite of passage?’
‘Good, at least you remember that much after what you did with the elder’s daughter last night.’ She huffed, and took a bandaged sword that was leaning on a wall behind her. ‘Now think fast.’ The woman jumped over the fireplace and threw the sword at Manar in a spin.
In a split second, Manar left the pile of skins and gained immediate footing on the wooden floorboards, deftly shot his hand forward and grabbed the sword by the hilt in mid-flight. ‘Not in the house, you do realize you could’ve left a hole in the wall with that throw?!’ He stood upright, wide awake as he brandished the sword.
The scar-faced lady laughed heartily. ‘It just means I can trust where it lands, now get dressed! It begins this high noon, and we’re expecting visitors!’ She took from a nearby wooden shelf several belongings and a set of clothes. Manar was about to fall asleep standing when a towel flew into his face.
Category All / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 1060 x 992px
File Size 785.2 kB
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