#cervidaestarters

[cervidae-of-the-rakkor]

theapproachingdusk

"You shouldn't be around here - this close. Even if it is at the revel of night."

[cervidae-of-the-rakkor]

From the partial base of the mountain through its pass and beyond the extensive Shurima Desert, she had wandered near-aimlessly amidst the humid population of tropical trees. Ignorant to the magnitude of its dangers, each footfall was the destruction of dead limbs beneath them in ignorance to the noise created. Without having come into contact with anything to make the Rakkor warrior more keenly aware of her own mortality, she stumbled through clinging vines and surprisingly arched tree roots like a drunken elk. Comparingly, limbs and branches snagged on her horn, causing profanity to cut past her lips now and then. She did not lack the ability in stealth and quickness – rather that was something she was known for. A hard boiling temper in frustration to the lengthy journey had caught the best of her, allowing her to throw caution out the window in favour of taking her anger out on the nearest loving vine curled around her midriff. Where had the dirt path gone that she had set on? Finally stopping herself at cutting herself free, she had shoved a shoulder into the nearest trunk, listening in to the vacancy of noises around her that had once been there. No more birds, or insects, or the dismal bellowing of some surely herbivore animal. The realization had caused a fall in her expression. kumungubeast

[cervidae-of-the-rakkor]

barbariancoldshoulder

She dragged the bloodied end of the white stag-adorned shield against the untainted snow as she pressed on for miles and miles, away from the desolate and now blood-impaired ancient ruins on the foreign land that seemed to be long abandoned, frozen in their time within the tundra that was so intently brutal to its inhabitants. Those who creased her unbidden path with their presence had not met a fortunate end, as they all lay dead where they had fallen in short-lived combat that left only one victorious. While the warrior had not expected living things to come tearing around a corner with murderous, ruthless intent she had pridefully taken down a total of four all on her own. Being out-numbered only seemed to be the way of Rakkor combat.

Breathless to the cold that closely exceeded that upon the terrain of Mount Targon itself, Apacci crumpled to her knees into hard, black ice-crusted snow, shouldering the bright red cape around her front to shield against slicing winds of an arriving storm. The shield, a burden upon her arm, remained at her other side as she hunkered down to pool warm breath. A blurred visage in the rushing snow not too far off flourished adrenaline once more, and she snapped from her rested state to push back up onto her feet, shield out before her. Noting the figure to be riding a very, very large animal while Emilou herself was considerably small, she began to back herself up, but faced the anonymous with a young flourished curiosity.