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Post by Vicaver Dawntracker on Apr 9, 2012 2:35:33 GMT -6
Vicaver pulled his bow from over his shoulder, slipping it from the leather strap that hung comfortably over his shoulder, the Bosmer brought his quiver round to his waist, and slipped an iron arrow from it, slotting it onto the string on his hunting bow, he pulled back and aimed before letting go, the arrow flew through the air for a second before piercing a deer through the head, Vicaver smirked, slotting the hunting bow back into it's strap, before jogging lightly over to the now dead deer. He lifted up the Deers head and pulled the arrow out, wiping it clean on a few leaves before returning it to it's quiver.
Vicaver pulled out a iron dagger out from his belt, lifting the Deer's leg into the air, he struck the dagger under the joint at popped the leg from it's socket as he cut through the flesh, he pulled a cloth from his bag and wrapped the end of the leg, tightening the cloth to the leg with some string, before putting the meat in his bag. He'd only been out of Dragonbridge for an hour, but he'd already decided that he should get something to eat for the long trip that he'd got ahead of him, the walk to Riften.
Vicaver pulled the draw string on his bag tight and returned it to his waist, trudging southwards, 'I can't wait until I get to Riften, I might, find some answers, at long last'. Hissing broke his concentration, Vica looked up, a Frostbite Spider was sitting in the mouth of a cave, lifting it's large body up on it's agile legs. "oh" Vica murmured to himself, slowly pulling his bow from the strap again, trying not to make the Spider panic, and bite him, he breathed in deeply, drawing the same iron arrow that had killed the deer into the bow, pulling the string back, he rocketed the arrow towards the spider, the spider side-stepped, the arrow hitting into one of it's back legs.
The Spider hissed again, louder this time, and made what seemed to be a gagging noise before coughing a ball of green phlegm towards Vicaver, Vicaver dived to the side, throwing his bow ahead of him, careful not to break it, rolling back to his feet, his hand clutched his bow, the green phlegm hit the body of the three-legged deer, the body where it was hit beginning to turn black and rotting, poison.
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