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Post by rosallora on Jun 13, 2019 9:59:44 GMT -8
"Ay ay, that's it. Thaaaat's it now." Antioch smiles in a way that betrays the deep crows' feet wrinkles he sports, dimples digging into his cheeks. "He's a good boy, he really wants ta be. Ain't his fault there's so much nasty out here." Antioch, secure now that the rope was on his Bull, put a hand to the wet, hot flank. Tirano himself made no large movements aside from a steady plodding, clearly tired out from his very exciting day. "I'm really to be thankin' ya for runnin' after him as you did. I don't have much ta give. Y'all didn't really expect much I figure, but still. Wish there was somethin' I could pass along." Antioch feels at the pockets of his pants, as if there was something of use in there.
"When he sires... don't know if you're the type in need of a calf. Ain't much to be offerin' I know and it ain't to everyone's wantin', but a calf ain't nothin' to sneeze at. Nice gal will give you sweet milk as long as you take good care a her." They approach the two other men on the way back, one busy sticking his hands inside of a pig corpse.
"Can't just leave it alone, could ya?" Antioch laughs, raspy to the ears.
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Post by Capster on Jun 13, 2019 10:26:32 GMT -8
Sarak tossed out more guts and continued to drain the pig. "Well, given past experience. I am not one to give up a meal. And given I don't have the time to clean out them intestines...This outta do. Voldundr mentioned we could have a bite to eat none the less." He says chuckling as he soon slung the blooded and gutted carcass over his shoulders. The weight of the pig was heavy, but Sarak paid no mind to it as he looked over to them.
He was silent before nodding to them. "And if trouble happened to find its way after we had doubled back, Ill be able to drop it and go about shooting like normal." He explained as he looked to the group. "And...I wouldn't worry about repayment on my end." He explained, that was clearly just a very blatant lie out of modesty, Sarak had, 50 gold which to him was a lot...and he hadn't even been given it yet.
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Post by EloHim on Jun 13, 2019 11:26:14 GMT -8
/Volundr/
"Obviously not. Gonna have some glory in bringing this meaty bastard to everyone's table, eh? Feed the people - people love you. Especially when its for free."- he hoped that's how it worked. Might have Hlokk make a couple of jokes at his expence later, if they get around to drinking.
"Eh, we not gonna eat those insides, who knows what this bastard ate. Lets just get on with it." he said taking the bastards legs, in order to help Sarak carry it faster back to the Hamlet. He didn't want to encounter another of those creatures. Even though that would mean more meat.
"Give the calf to the shooter, he earned it fair. I work at the forge, so I would have no time or place to care for it."- he shrugged off the offer. Whilst having himself an animal sounded good, he didn't knew how to take care of it. Or where to keep it. Or anything else... He was a warrior and a smith. A farmer he was not.
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Jun 13, 2019 17:25:14 GMT -8
/Arnulf/
"I'll take whatever you're givin', bub..." He gruffed as he stooped and ambled alongside the Bull; idly glancing over to Volundr then Sarak with respective affirmation to their choices. The Antioch fellow he let his eyes linger on, before snapping to the woods; the fellow was far more able than his wiry and aged appearance let on. He certainly moved with more lividity than himself, even if the coot looked twice Arnulf's age with his wrinkles and frayed hair.
Though, as Arnulf stepped over a puddle, he caught a glimpse of his own haggard state; he supposed he was far from a pockless youth himself... The trek back felt long, but he knew he used to run ten times a grander hunt than this. Through hill and wood and castle stones he used to hunt... Beasts whose crowns were silver and gold, marked with ruby and jade.
Now he hunted rotting stags and lusting bulls in black forests.
With some bitter nostalgia, he ran his thumb over the multicolored wrappings on the grip of his bow; House colors : red, blue, green, purple and black... Trophies of a dead life. With a bitter sneer, he shut his eyes and plodded on in thought...
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Post by rosallora on Jun 13, 2019 20:14:21 GMT -8
"If you're the only one wantin', I'll be givin'. Next time Tirano sires, it'll be yours to have. Girl or boy... you can have your pick. I'd just feel wrong. Takin', in a way, when I ain't given nothin' to ya. So I 'ppreciate you acceptin'. Means somethin' to me." He looks at the spot on Tirano's back, grimacing slightly. "I'm sure that'll be some quick fix... doc'll look it over, clean it up nice. Nothin' a bit a time can't make well. Always worked for me!" There's a ringing laugh for him, tried and true. His walking companion seemed to not be in such good spirits, but. It'd been quite the event. "Well uh. Don't y'all worry none. Seems we've made it to the end in one piece."
And what he said was true. Before them lay the exit to the warrens, the way back to the Hamlet covered in caramel light. The sight of revelry could be seen in the distance, townsfolk enjoying all manner of good and game. Antioch sighs heavily, a weight lifting from his frame. "Well. I'll be takin' this one on in." He takes the rope from Arnulf, all signs of aggression gone from the bull. "Be safe now, the lot of ya. Must really be some kinda blessed holiday... us comin' out mostly untouched, you know. Things dwell in there. Hear things, sometimes. But they ain't touchin' us now."
He tugs gently on the lead, then pauses, standing in the knee-deep wild grass. "Y'all good folk." He looks back, the bull walking on, the rope slack. He moves his fingers and tips his hat to the group. "Don't y'all forget that."
And Antioch walks on, steady on the earth as he ever was, in the direction of home.
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