Timestamp: Vhalar 62nd immediately following this thread.
Qit moved away from the cart, knowing now that she needed one final piece of the axe; the handle. The problem in building an axe from wood was that typically an axe helped to acquire the wood. She was stuck between a forest cat and a pack of wolves. But she'd deal with that once she found the desirable wood.
Dipping between the trees, Qit made her way westward, following along the river's bank. She knew several of the trees by sight, but was terrible with their names. Every time she reached a small tree, she reached her hand around the trunk. She wanted one only slightly thicker than what she imagined her future axe handle to be. And she wanted a living tree, green wood. She knew dead, old wood was far too brittle or rotten to be of any use.
She'd found so many trees that were close to meeting her requirements, but never the perfect one. Qit had found those that were twisted, those that had been carved into by Tree Stabbers, those silly birds that hammer their beaks into the wood for bugs. She'd found those that had been chewed on by Gnawers, the fat water rats that build homes in the rivers and streams. Trees offered so many different uses to so many different creatures, it was difficult getting one that was just right.
She came around a particularly empty blackberry bush, likely picked clean by birds, when she found it. Gripping her hand around it, it was the perfect thickness. It had very few knots, no rot, no chew marks, no holes, and was taller than she. It was the best she was going to find, she was sure of it. Qit'ria peered up into the branches, and shook the tree a bit. A couple of birds flew away, though one darker, bland colored one sat in a nearby tree, seeming stressed, and looking back where it flew.
This was a mama bird, Qit'ria was sure of it. It was common knowledge that most female birds were more camouflaged for the forest than males, because females were smarter. They didn't need to worry about being pretty like the males. They colored themselves to survive. Males were only good for breeding and maintaining the nest. Just like with people. Peering closer, further up in the branches, she saw why the mama was distressed. There was a nest up there. And nests meant eggs.
Qit reached up and grabbed a branch, remembering to grab it close to the trunk, so that it wouldn't bend down and snap. She hopped up a bit and grabbed it with her other hand, and dangled there comically for a moment. She then placed her rough, bare feet against the trunk and began half walking, half climbing her way up, while pulling upward with her arms. She huffed and puffed until she got an arm over the branch. That helped her pull the rest of her body up over it. She stayed very close to the trunk, as she felt this tree was just barely holding her up.
Slowly raising to a crouch, then to a standing position she reached up and grabbed the branch the nest rested in. As she got closer to it, she could hear the mama bird squawking loudly in protest. Qit's calloused hand reached over the twiggy nest and slipped inside the nest. Her fingers probed around a bit. She didn't want to take all of the eggs, so she grabbed three of them, lightly tucking them inside her knuckles. That should leave two or three left to make more birds, and more eggs, and at the end of the day, more food. But then she realized her mistake. If she was chopping down this tree anyways, then might as well take them all. Reaching up, she dislodged the nest as a whole, and slipped the eggs she'd stolen inside. Six eggs in total. That would make a nice snack later.
Carefully, she eased down onto her branch until she sat, then slid down off it. She landed with an oof, keeping the nest up and out so as to not knock it and spill the treasures within. Walking over to a nearby bush, she slipped the nest underneath it for safe keeping, and drew her trusty, battered and beaten sword. Time to fell this tree.
Word Count: (730/730)
Qit moved away from the cart, knowing now that she needed one final piece of the axe; the handle. The problem in building an axe from wood was that typically an axe helped to acquire the wood. She was stuck between a forest cat and a pack of wolves. But she'd deal with that once she found the desirable wood.
Dipping between the trees, Qit made her way westward, following along the river's bank. She knew several of the trees by sight, but was terrible with their names. Every time she reached a small tree, she reached her hand around the trunk. She wanted one only slightly thicker than what she imagined her future axe handle to be. And she wanted a living tree, green wood. She knew dead, old wood was far too brittle or rotten to be of any use.
She'd found so many trees that were close to meeting her requirements, but never the perfect one. Qit had found those that were twisted, those that had been carved into by Tree Stabbers, those silly birds that hammer their beaks into the wood for bugs. She'd found those that had been chewed on by Gnawers, the fat water rats that build homes in the rivers and streams. Trees offered so many different uses to so many different creatures, it was difficult getting one that was just right.
She came around a particularly empty blackberry bush, likely picked clean by birds, when she found it. Gripping her hand around it, it was the perfect thickness. It had very few knots, no rot, no chew marks, no holes, and was taller than she. It was the best she was going to find, she was sure of it. Qit'ria peered up into the branches, and shook the tree a bit. A couple of birds flew away, though one darker, bland colored one sat in a nearby tree, seeming stressed, and looking back where it flew.
This was a mama bird, Qit'ria was sure of it. It was common knowledge that most female birds were more camouflaged for the forest than males, because females were smarter. They didn't need to worry about being pretty like the males. They colored themselves to survive. Males were only good for breeding and maintaining the nest. Just like with people. Peering closer, further up in the branches, she saw why the mama was distressed. There was a nest up there. And nests meant eggs.
Qit reached up and grabbed a branch, remembering to grab it close to the trunk, so that it wouldn't bend down and snap. She hopped up a bit and grabbed it with her other hand, and dangled there comically for a moment. She then placed her rough, bare feet against the trunk and began half walking, half climbing her way up, while pulling upward with her arms. She huffed and puffed until she got an arm over the branch. That helped her pull the rest of her body up over it. She stayed very close to the trunk, as she felt this tree was just barely holding her up.
Slowly raising to a crouch, then to a standing position she reached up and grabbed the branch the nest rested in. As she got closer to it, she could hear the mama bird squawking loudly in protest. Qit's calloused hand reached over the twiggy nest and slipped inside the nest. Her fingers probed around a bit. She didn't want to take all of the eggs, so she grabbed three of them, lightly tucking them inside her knuckles. That should leave two or three left to make more birds, and more eggs, and at the end of the day, more food. But then she realized her mistake. If she was chopping down this tree anyways, then might as well take them all. Reaching up, she dislodged the nest as a whole, and slipped the eggs she'd stolen inside. Six eggs in total. That would make a nice snack later.
Carefully, she eased down onto her branch until she sat, then slid down off it. She landed with an oof, keeping the nest up and out so as to not knock it and spill the treasures within. Walking over to a nearby bush, she slipped the nest underneath it for safe keeping, and drew her trusty, battered and beaten sword. Time to fell this tree.
Word Count: (730/730)
