W
WarriorHeart
Guest
Original poster
[This is a closed thread. PM with interests/questions]
The soft sound of finches chirping announced the rising of the sun. The forest was coming to life as the light began to filter through the dense green foliage. Everything was creating a harmonious symphony of sound and movement that seemed as if the Gods themselves were building a tribute to themselves through nature.
This all seemed perfect until an off key groan echoed from under a pile of furs. The soft skins tussled and bounced until the head of a young elf popped out from beneath them. A single sunbeam caught his platinum blonde hair and accented his long pointed ears. He rubbed his face and yawned. The young man rose to a standing position and stretched his arms high towards the treetops. He was a handsome fellow as all elves were and well built just like the other young warriors and scouts. He made his way over towards a curious looking tree stump and kicked it with his leather boot. The top slid off and revealed a cubby hole where his pack was stored. The young elf knelt down and began rummaging through his belongings tossing out a white shirt, a hunk of fruit bread, a skin of water and a dark green tunic.
Once all of these items had been removed, the young man set the lid back into place, spun around and plopped himself onto the stump. He shoved himself into his shirt and then grabbed the bread and water. "Two whole seasons!" He grumbled. "All for a prank…", he tore into the bread and chewed hungrily. After he had swallowed, he took a swig from the water skin and continued his diatribe. "The council thought it was funny but because Anneleth's father was twisted about it, I have to live outside the village walls for two seasons."
He took another huge bite of his bread and walked to where he had been sleeping. He gathered up the furs and began bundling them up and setting them aside. He exposed a pack, bow, a quill of arrows and several daggers and went about stowing everything away. Callendril was a ranger, albeit a young one, but a ranger nonetheless. His grandfather, his father, his brother and his three uncles had all been rangers and had taught him the way of the forest. It was a bummer to miss the festival season but the young scout would survive. He would show them all.
The soft sound of finches chirping announced the rising of the sun. The forest was coming to life as the light began to filter through the dense green foliage. Everything was creating a harmonious symphony of sound and movement that seemed as if the Gods themselves were building a tribute to themselves through nature.
This all seemed perfect until an off key groan echoed from under a pile of furs. The soft skins tussled and bounced until the head of a young elf popped out from beneath them. A single sunbeam caught his platinum blonde hair and accented his long pointed ears. He rubbed his face and yawned. The young man rose to a standing position and stretched his arms high towards the treetops. He was a handsome fellow as all elves were and well built just like the other young warriors and scouts. He made his way over towards a curious looking tree stump and kicked it with his leather boot. The top slid off and revealed a cubby hole where his pack was stored. The young elf knelt down and began rummaging through his belongings tossing out a white shirt, a hunk of fruit bread, a skin of water and a dark green tunic.
Once all of these items had been removed, the young man set the lid back into place, spun around and plopped himself onto the stump. He shoved himself into his shirt and then grabbed the bread and water. "Two whole seasons!" He grumbled. "All for a prank…", he tore into the bread and chewed hungrily. After he had swallowed, he took a swig from the water skin and continued his diatribe. "The council thought it was funny but because Anneleth's father was twisted about it, I have to live outside the village walls for two seasons."
He took another huge bite of his bread and walked to where he had been sleeping. He gathered up the furs and began bundling them up and setting them aside. He exposed a pack, bow, a quill of arrows and several daggers and went about stowing everything away. Callendril was a ranger, albeit a young one, but a ranger nonetheless. His grandfather, his father, his brother and his three uncles had all been rangers and had taught him the way of the forest. It was a bummer to miss the festival season but the young scout would survive. He would show them all.