A fortnight he had walked without encountering a single soul. Not one roaming party had been traipsing through these woods. Normally he would avoid the beaten paths, because these were likely to have armed escorts. A roadside scene was harder to cover up and it tended to warn additional parties of the danger lurking about. It seemed that word of his misdeeds had outpaced him and reached the area prior, because no one was looking for shortcuts through the shrubbery. Or that was what he thought, until he caught the trail of a family of four dawdling near the shore. For hours he shadowed them, quietly slipping between the shadows of trees and the prickly cover of overgrown bushes. After some time the group came to a halt, taking pause on the beachhead to discuss something inaudible.
He carried three packs; one small beige cotton pouch tied about his waist which held small personal effects, one small rectangular leather container which was strapped across his chest and would usually hold small throwing daggers or combat related knick-knacks (though it had now been relegated to a berry container), and one larger leather satchel which was compartmented to hold different foodstuffs and whatever else he needed to carry that sat just above his left hip on his back. Only the small leather pack contained anything edible, a cluster of different wild berries. He ran his hand over the dusty leather satchel, the largest of the three, slipping his fingers under the flap and foraging for something remotely worth ingesting. His hand was withdrawn from the pouch, retrieving nothing more than a small, disappointing rock. How symbolic, he thought. Moving his left hand to the center of chest he flipped open the small container, plucking a few blueberries from it and cradling them in his hand. One by one he popped them in to his mouth, swishing them around, crushing them up and taking their full flavor in.
The scene in front of him was driving him mad. Like a lion, he hungrily watched the family desert their belongings one by one. Children were sent off to the nearby shoreline, presumably to search for small pools and the edible easy-to-catch marine life located within. The mother scooped up a small basket and headed off to the tree line to forage for roots and berries. Acting as a mule was their father, who shrugged all their belongings off near a large rock on the beachhead and made his way to the water. Kneeling down to the rolling water, the man splashed his face and chest with cool, clean water. The man's refreshment was visible and identifiable, the sun having been especially unforgiving for the past few days.
This is my time.
A small wooden crossbow hung loosely on his right hip, resting on a clip that fit in to his waistline. He ran his fingers over the smooth, soft brown wood. It was dangerously accurate at close ranges and most of the people he encountered were scared witless by it. The bolts for it were held in the large satchel on his left, in a rounded compartment on its side. He mentally thumbed over the use for it in this impending encounter; likely he'd shoot the man in his shoulder, as he appeared unarmed and shooting him in the leg would be too immoral for even a man like himself. Hopefully he could get away without confrontation – his supply on bolts had been running low and it'd be a nice change to get away without any blood on his hands.
Spreading his fingers out over the cool earth, he ducked low under the bush and flattened his upper body just above the earth. Inch by inch he shimmied closer, his eyes never wavering from the father who was the only threat. When he was clear of the foliage he sprang to life, powerful calves pushing him off the dirt and rocketing him towards the vulnerable packs. The packs were reached in record time, and in seconds he had flipped the first open and was rifling through it. Like he had done countless times before, everything worthwhile was pillaged; rope, dried meat, coins, and whatever small scraps of useful materials he encountered.
After the first pack was finished he began on the second. However, before he could even snap it open he heard a voice call out. "Hey!" The call was raspy, rushed and aggravated, the end of the word reaching a feverish high that almost became a shriek. His eyes followed the sound to find the family's father, beaming red in the face, barreling down on his position.
"Sheh!" Raeos grunted something incomprehensible and scooped up the second pack, which had been the largest of the pieces the family had been carrying. Taking off at the same kinetic sprint that had carried him here he shot for the tree line. The father, who had been walking in the sun all day and carrying half his body weight in belongings, was no match for him. Every few seconds he'd check over his shoulder, the man getting further and further away. Before long the man had given up chase and Raeos shot further in to the forest. Once he was clear and far away from the scene he dropped to his knees, throwing the pack on the ground. He recognized a large knife on the outside of the satchel, taking it and placing it in his own large satchel. The rest of the things were mostly just blankets and other personal belongings. Of note in the pack was a metal box which held flint, tinder and dried cloth with which to fund a fire and a fine silk scarf. The scarf was a brilliant surprise, a smooth feeling that his hands had not felt in quite some time. He unfolded the scarf and tossed it around his neck, tossing the long end of it over his shoulder. Also in the pack was a few rolls collected in a brown paper bundle which he hungrily devoured.
The haul had filled his stomach. With a yawning stretch he climbed back to his feet and began a lackadaisical meander toward what seemed to be a break in the forestry. As he neared it, his suspicions came true – he had found a nearby road. The road was likely to be safer than the woods from people of his caliber. A visual sweep of either end of the road gave up no ideas toward which town they led. With a shrug of his shoulders he chose one of the two directions and began his trek. With any luck he'd reach a town before nightfall and could get a safe, well deserved nights rest. After all, he had done a hard day's work today.
