Take me for what I am (Past RP)

[Rawnie Tal'verda]

The snow had fallen hard last night, covering most of the tracks, including hers. A young, light haired woman stood back against a sprawling ancient oak tree. Her white chestplate was mostly covered by the thick white wolf pelt she wore draped around her shoulders. Her white and grey knitted scarf blew around behind her. She stood still as ice, watching something through the thicket of trees. Her target was right there.

She'd finally found it. She needed to find new furs for the children they'd had join them this year in her clan. Keep the little ones from freezing to death in the night. A blanket was never enough out here, no matter how many you piled on. They needed fur.
And meat.

An Uxi was a good source of meat, but a wolf, especially one of the giant wolves that they had out here, had the best fur that could be found up here. It was wandering towards her now. It hadn't spotted her. It was hard to spot her out here. So white, so pale. Buir had said she was 'kissed by the snow' when she was born.

It had been the coldest day recorded on Mandalore, the day she came into the world. She'd been so small, shivering with a fever. The village midwife claimed that she'd be dead before morning. Her mother had slapped her, saying 'She's no baby. She's a wolf. The runt of the litter is always the most dangerous when they grow.'
Come morning, little baby Rawnie's fever had broke and she was screaming and crying like the healthiest babe.

She never did get big though. She remained small, slender, just like her mother. But she had a bite and she had claws.

The wolf paused, standing just between two trees, almost thirty yards in front of her. Slowly, Rawnie raised her bow. It looked right at her when she pulled the string back with three fingers. She remembered her lessons from her father. Arm straight, three fingers only, use the tips to better let go, only draw back to her eye, look down the arrow to better aim. She rarely missed when she reminded herself of these lessons.

The wolfs clear blue eyes bore into her heart. It knew. She knew. And for a moment, there was a sense of complete zen between them. An understanding. Ever since that strange incident with her brother and the wolves, Rawnie couldn't help but feel like they... just knew. Like they could speak to her directly through her heart.

"Udes jii, vod," she whispered, breath coming out in a faint white fog. Then she let the arrow fly. She followed it with her eyes and her heart, all the way through that perfect blue eye. The wolf staggered for only a moment, then it fell. It was alive for a few seconds. She hurried across to it, trying to get to it before it faded completely. She crouched down next to it in the snow, hand running along it's ash-grey coat, feeling it's last three breaths. Then it was gone.

 

[Malcom Renolds]

Although from the same portion of the northern mountains of Mandalore as the Tal'verda, Malcom was not of the same clan. He had been adopted at a young age into the normally long lived clan of the Renolds family. Although he was a human, Malcom was treated the same as any other member of the clan. Most of whom tended to be Shi'ido. It could be difficult at times though, as the young mandalorian obviously did not possess any of the long lived shape shifting attributes of the rest of his clan. Still, he loved his adopted family as if they were his own flesh and blood. He always tried to prove this by becoming the best he could be at whatever, he set his mind too.

On days he wasn't training though, he found himself spending time with a young woman from the Tal'verda clan. They would frequently go out into the wild and practice their hunting skills. Either with the long rifle or with a bow. Today in the colder part of the year they were hunting bow style. It was her turn to tag the kill, so he simply remained at her side with the long rifle. It always seemed like a good idea to be packing something a little heavier than a simple bow and arrow. Especially out in the wilderness of Mandalore. Just like the natives themselves, the wildlife also tended to be big, mean, and aggressive.

While they waited patiently in their makeshift blind of snow (one of the few times Malcom could remain stealthy and patient), they spotted a wolf. A strange sighting indeed if it were only one. For now though, that is all it was. Just a lone wolf slowly closing on their position. As it drew near, he stopped scanning the horizon so as not to draw any undue attention. It didn't take long though for Rawnie to make her shot. And a good one at that. A smirk flashed across his face. "Nice shot, snow angel!" He said warmly to his girlfriend before she darted off toward her kill.

Malcom meanwhile followed her, although more slowly. His job for the day was lookout. So his approach would find him scanning the area once again through the scope of his sniper rifle. Finally closing in, he lowered the rifle, happy nothing else seemed to be nearby. "So how many is that so far? You close to your target goal for the season?"

[member="Rawnie Tal'verda"]

 

[Rawnie Tal'verda]

She kept her hand on the wolfs corpse as she reached over to pluck her arrow out of the eye socket. It had gone straight to the brain. Good. She'd been worried for a millisecond that she might not kill it in one go. 'If you can't kill it in one shot, don't take the shot'. It was cruel to have to shoot twice, and Rawnie hated making her kills suffer if they didn't have to. Not that she ever said this put loud. She was viewed as ice cold, distant. If too many people outside the clan knew about her soft heart, they might try to take advantage. Might think she was weak.

"I don't make goals," she replied, frowning as she wiped the bloodied arrow off in the snow, "I take what is needed only. This isn't sport for us, Cyar'ika. Clan Tal'verda isn't stable enough to afford to hunt for the fun of it."

It was true. Her clan was struggling. With the disappearance of her father, things had gone downhill quickly. Once upon a time, their clan had been proud warriors, volunteering for the front lines when ever the Mand'alor called on them. Her father would lead his brothers and sisters into battle, and they would always come out victorious. But most of them were gone now. Dead. It had started with the death of Galaar, her Fathers closest brother. Then one by one, funeral pyres went up, were set ablaze, and now they were just names she whispered before she went to sleep.

The young woman whistled, and an aging strill jumped out from behind a clump of trees.

"Cabur," she ordered, "take."

The floppy, leather faced animal sneezed at her then gently sunk his teeth into the creatures hide and started to drag it through the snow back to camp. She stuck her arrow back into her quiver and watched for a moment until the beast disappeared. She looked worried. It wasn't enough. Not for what they needed. The wolf meat would help feed the clan too, but not for long, and Mothers income couldn't support them as much as it could when her father was around. They were struggling. Even with everyone working together, it wasn't enough. There were so many who were too old, or crippled to take care of, who couldn't contribute anymore, and small children who were not old enough. Hunting helped, but only a little. She couldn't over do it, or else she risked wiping out entire populations. They had to balance, or they would all starve.

[member="Malcom Renolds"]

 

[Malcom Renolds]

Malcom rolled his eyes in an exaggerated way. "Well of course. Nobody ever said to take more than was responsible. But that doesn't mean you don't set targets." Though he rolled his eyes, a smirk was plain on his face to show he wasn't actually bothered by her words at all. "Come on. You really expect me to believe you aren't trying to set a new records among your clan for most kills in a season?" He gave her an unconvinced look, almost daring her to try and say she wasn't. She was very much like him after all. Extremely competitive and proud. Mandalorian pride was one of their greatest strong points, but also one of their greatest weaknesses.

The difference lay in that his clan, although fairly small like hers, was doing much better financially. They had specialized ironically enough, in not only ships, but stealth, espionage, and powerful weaponry tech. Most of the things Malcom was not so adept at. It had made his clan fairly well off in their own right.

His gaze averted to the strill coming out of the tree to retrieve her kill. "You know cyar'ika..." He started warily. "You don't have to be so tough on yourself. My clan would be more than happy to help you guys out. There is no need to struggle just because we aren't from the same clan." He offered warmly, caressing her cheek softly with the outside of his hand. Shouldering his rifle as nothing seemed to be happening, he continued. "And I'm not saying you can't take care of your family. I'm only saying you don't have to handle the struggle on your own."

Malcom new how stubborn she could be though. He knew very well she'd probably say no help was required. That wouldn't stop him from offering though. He was still trying to figure out a way to help them without her knowing of it. Malcom loved the woman, but sometimes she was just to kriffin' stubborn for her own good. "But anyway, what do you want to try for next? I hear there is a herd of Shatual running through the southern pass right now. Want to try our luck there?"

[member="Rawnie Tal'verda"]

 

[Rawnie Tal'verda]

She tried not to smirk at his comment, but she couldn't help it. Record. He didn't know?

"I already have the record in my village," she answered, "No need for me to make the others feel bad."

She brushed some snow off her furs, as he reached over to caress her cheek. His suggestion... left a very bitter taste in her mouth. She shrugged away from him immediately. Didn't he understand? She had her pride to think about! It would be shameful to ask for help. She could do this all on her own. She could support her people. Corrin may be the new clan leader, but Rawnie was the one feeding them, keeping them alive. And she'd keep doing it until she dropped.

"That is not even a suggestion I am willing to entertain. This is my burden, Mal. I won't let you carry it too."

No matter how much they cared for each other, he was not Tal'verda. He had no responsibility for her people. She shouldered her bow, moving on. The discussion was over. She would not speak of it again.

"Let's try your suggestion. If you're going to hunt though, use a bow. Makes less noise. We can't afford to scare away the meat."

[member="Malcom Renolds"]

 

[Malcom Renolds]

He huphed a quick laugh when she declared herself as already holding the record. "Of course you do." Malcom mused.

When she turned away from him though and so blatantly refused anything he might be able to do to assist her, he couldn't help but roll his eyes and let out a deep sigh. Her further assertion that she wouldn't "let" him help caused him to raise an eyebrow, though a small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Last I checked cyar'ika, you weren't in a position to tell me what I can and can't do." His tone was quite challenging, but she'd also recognize it as him simply teasing. There relationship was more of a partnership. But both were extremely strong willed, so sometimes their status to each other could some times be confused when they disagreed. "And besides, you weren't asking for help. It was being offered. Last I checked, there was no shame in accepting an offered hand from a fellow mando."

Her moving on to the next topic though, brought on a slight shake of his head. "Very well. If I'm going to use a bow, they you take the rifle and be the look out. I'd rather not be lunch to a whole pack of those wolves because we decided to abandon modern weapons."

Pulling his bow from off his back, he headed back to their speeders so they could head to the southern pass a few miles away. Nearing the vehicle, he shot her a playful grin. "Race you there!"

Before she could respond, he sprinted for the speeder. Hopping on board, he quickly activated the machine and shot off to their destination.

[member="Rawnie Tal'verda"]

 

[Rawnie Tal'verda]

He was tricky. She liked that about him. Playful, fun. She had half a wind to chuck a snowball at him while he raced for the speeder, but she was too busy running for her own to bother with it. She shoved her helmet onto her head as she ran.

"Oh, no you don't!"

She hopped onto hers, only seconds after he took off, but it was long enough to give him the advantage. Rawnie was never one to moan about the unfairness of it all though. Life was not a gave with set rules. Nothing was ever fair. People were born in different classes, in different families, in different situations. Some people had advantages. Some people were born pretty, or smarter, or with financial influence. And some people had absolutely nothing. But they were all expected to achieve the same goal; survive.

Rawnies speeder raced after his, her scarf and furs flying behind her like a flag in the wind. He was a better driver than her, but she knew the terrain just a bit more than him, and she knew a short cut. While he raced ahead, she waved once before disappearing at a dip in the terrain.

[member="Malcom Renolds"]

 

[Malcom Renolds]

Looking in the rear view mirrow, he caught a snarky Rawnie waving sarcastically at him before darting off onto a slightly different path. "Cheater!" He grumbled to himself, though he maintained his smirk and just as sarcastically, blew her a kiss. In this area at least, he knew she had a better grasp of the terrain. But he was the better rider. Time to see which would prevail.

Stomping on the accelerator even more, he pushed the limits of his vehicle as he dodged in between the myriad of trees and boulders. This was nearly as exhilarating as actual combat. Tiny snowflakes bit into his face as he moved through the brush, in and out of the hollers, and over streams that still hadn't frozen over yet.

The mando had always been a daredevil. But then, that was why he and Rawnie tended to work so well together. They were both a little crazy. It wasn't far now. Just over the next bluff would be where the southern pass was located, and they would be wise to not venture beyond it with their speeders lest they spook any game in the area. Still, it was a race, and in true Malcom fashion, he pushed hard to get their first!

[member="Rawnie Tal'verda"]

 

[Rawnie Tal'verda]

Win or lose, Rawnie was determined to get there in a decent time. He'd had a head start. He was the better rider. But Rawnie spent more time out here than he did. She knew the landscape, the local flora and fauna. It came in handy. She swerved around trees, she swerved around large snow covered boulders. If she hadn't know they were there, she might have hit one or two. That would be disastrous, getting stranded out here. It was too late in the day to even think she could make it back to camp without the speeder. And after dark, the temperature would drop to dangerously low levels. She'd freeze to death before midnight.

She skidded through a stream, nearly frozen over now in places. It was almost autumn, soon the hardest months would be upon them. Most of the creatures she hunted would go into hibernation until spring. She was running out of time.

She turned a corner, only to see her lover racing to the spot. She hit the accelerator. She couldn't win this and she knew it, but at the very least, they could end in a tie.

[member="Malcom Renolds"]

 

[Malcom Renolds]

Malcom was actually somewhat surprised to see he was coming out of the forest slightly ahead of Rawnie. His pushing the limits and having a few close calls actually paid of for him this time. At least until a wayward branch that he didn't see when he was looking back smacked him in the helmet and threw off his concentration. Recovering, he punched it one last time. The last second goof was enough to cost him the lead though.

Coming just short of the crest, the two lovers did indeed arrive in a tie. Pulling off his helmet, he laughed lightly. "Good race. I thought you totally had this with whatever short cut you had found though. Guess every now and again, I get lucky." He said with a wink before looking out to the crest ahead. Powering down his vehicle, Malcom hopped off and produced his bow and a few arrows in a quiver. "Shall we?" He offered, pointing toward the pass.

As the hunters made their way, he spoke up again. "So angel, when are you going to let me snatch you away from this world and take you on a bounty hunt? It wouldn't be forever. I think you'd like it too. Even more interesting than hunting wildlife. Especially since the target usually has more intelligence, makes for one kark of a challenge."

[member="Rawnie Tal'verda"]

 

[Rawnie Tal'verda]

A tie. She did what she could, and she did not lose. Better a tie than a loss. Rawnie did so hate losing, especially to him. She never experienced sexism in her own clan, but occasionally, if she had to visit elsewhere, she'd get the 'let me carry that for you, sweet heart', or 'why don't you just stand there and smile for us', or her personal favorite 'hey now, lower your bow before you hurt yourself!' And here she was taught that her culture was all about equality in the sexes. She had to punch a few too many men out just for that reason to feel fully comfortable anywhere. But, it encouraged her to try just a little bit harder, be a little bit better, so that when she won against a man, he would know it was because she was honestly that much better.

She dismounted, removed her helmet. She didn't like wearing it out here. She preferred to rely on her own hearing, her own eyesight. It made her feel like she was honestly one with nature. No unfair advantages for her. Life wasn't fair, but she wanted to overcome it herself, without help.

"You cheated," she replied with a shrug, "starting early. Had you not started so early, I may have beaten you. But who can say? It didn't happen like that."

They walked together, her eyes scanned the crisp snowy landscape. Ice crystals started to form in her white/blonde hair, snow fell onto her eyelashes. She sighed, checking her rifle as he talked.

"As soon as I can get away," she answered, "probably this winter. If I can gather enough food to last the clan throughout the winter, I can slip away for a while. The credits I can make bounty hunting would be more helpful than trapping small rodents and occasionally bringing in an uxi. The only problem is, finding the time to leave..."

She wanted to go. She wanted to go so badly it hurt. Rawnie had never left the surface of Mandalore before. Not once. She saw what was out there through holo recordings from her mother, and pictured from the holonet, but it wasn't enough. She wanted to see it all herself.
The only problem was... she was afraid of meeting new people. She'd always had this awkward social anxiety that crippled her when she was approached by strangers. And out there, there was nothing but strangers.

[member="Malcom Renolds"]

 

[Malcom Renolds]

Malcom laughed at her excuse for the tie. "HA! Says the person who ducked out off the trail and took a short cut. You my dear, are just too cute for your own good." He gave her a soft push against her shoulder armor. He didn't take her accusation personal at all. It was pretty much how they did anything. Always trying to one up each other in their constant battle of seeing who the better. All it usually ended up showing though was they were a good team that only complimented each others weaknesses.

When she actually gave him a rough guesstimate on when she would go, he cast a sideward glance that was more suspicious than anything else. "This sounds very general and non committal." He teased. "You know. One of these days, I'm just going to kidnap you away from here, if winter comes and goes, and you still haven't manage to get a couple weeks to slip away." There was a playful smirk across his face. He was really only trying to get some time with her where she wasn't worrying about every little problem on Mandalore.

And he knew she would love it when she finally got a taste. It was the perfect job for people like them. Never dealing with many people, if any. Lots of time spent with weapons and tracking. And in the end, usually a very good pay day. But she was such a stubborn nerf at times.

Now at the top of the crest overlooking the mountain pass, he pulled out his pair of electrobinoculars to begin scanning the area for any sign of their quarry. So far, no sign. A frown broke out over his brow as he handed her the optics. "Two points south, along the treeline, are those tracks? I don't see anything but it looks like there might be tracks in the snow."

[member="Rawnie Tal'verda"]

 

[Rawnie Tal'verda]

Rawnie frowned. Cute. He called her cute. She hated that word. Babies were cute, small animals were cute. Rawnie was a full grown woman. She had half a mind to punch him... in the face. But that feeling faded when she looked at him. She felt herself blush a little as they walked. She... really didn't ever tell him how she felt. They had simply realized a mutual attraction after so many years playing together as children that they just sort of... fell in together. Half her clan assumed that they would be married one day and she would insist on combining their clans. How powerful they could be...

But through all that, Rawnie had never said what was on her mind. Those words that were so hard for her people, that they only had a rough translation for them. It was almost easier to try to say them in basic, but that itself would just seem wrong. She opened her mouth-

Then he handed her electrobinoculars and she closed it again. They were on a hunt. No need for that nonsense here. What was she thinking?
She scanned the landscape, focusing on the faint prints in the snow.

"Those are tracks," she confirmed, "But they are faint. It's been a while. Mal, we may be a bit late..."

She eyed the sun overhead. It would be getting dark in a few hours. Did they have time to track, kill, and get back to camp before the cold hard nights?

[member="Malcom Renolds"]

 

[Malcom Renolds]

He looked at the afternoon sky at the same time she did for the exact same reason. A small sigh escaped his lips. He'd really hate to have come all this way for nothing. "Well, I'm game to run them to earth if needs be. How about you?" Both mandos knew it was late in the day, but he felt they could pull it off. Nothing had defeated them while they worked together yet. Even if they got stuck out there, it wasn't like they didn't know how to rough it in the woods.

It got cold at night, that was for sure. But the harsh terrain and tough weather was what made mandos who they were. "Besides, if it means I can get you off this rock by bringing in that much more meat for the clan, I say let's go." Ever the soul of confidence, Malcom was never one to back down from a challenge. If he felt something could not be accomplished one way, he'd pull back just to hit it a different way. And in the end, he wanted her to be able to relax a bit. Nobody needed to be that worried about if their people were going to be able to have enough food or not.

Pulling an arrow from his quiver, he knocked it into the bow, but didn't pull back on it as he started off in the direction of the tracks. Surely they couldn't have made it too far. At least they would make good time. As he walked down the mountain pass he did wonder why she was being so serious today. Granted she usually was, but it seemed like something was up. Like something was on her mind. He cast her one last glance with a smile to see if she was coming before turning back to the path.

[member="Rawnie Tal'verda"]

 

[Rawnie Tal'verda]

A challenge. Rawnie did always enjoy a challenge. A chance to see just how far she could push herself. To see just how good she really was. Just to see how much better she really was than her brother. Corrin never came out here to do this. He stayed in the village, or hunted nearby. She was the one who was always going deeper just to see what was out there.

She shrugged, biting her lip. But even if she did enjoy a challenge, risks were another thing entirely. If there was a lot to lose, she knew she could not afford to take the risk. If she lost her life out here, her clan would likely die off and scatter. She knew the food she brought in was what held them together. It was a tough life out here.
But then again, no risk, no gain. She'd heard her father use those words. If they found this pack, he clan would be fed for months. Long enough to go out there, have an adventure or two.

Was it worth it?
When he was talking to her like that, pushing her, challenging her, how could she ever say no?

"Oya!"
She raised her rifle slightly, moving forward with him. Somehow, he would know what he did to her.

[member="Malcom Renolds"]

 

[Malcom Renolds]

"Oya!" He responded with with an excited raised arm and closed fist. Breaking into a slow job, they'd make their way down the pass. Slowly but surely the tracks began to deepen. Slowly they began to appear more recent. A scratched tree here from where the shatual were rubbing their antlers, to a bit of scat there. They moved as quickly as they could while still remaining quite silent. Like wraiths ghosting their way through the trees and small mountain meadows.

As they moved though, so did the sun. They needed to keep working. The problem was, the farther down they went, the farther they'd have to go to get back to their speeders. The moment he was about to call the hunt off, he heard the call from a male not to far ahead, just out of view.

Now instead of turning back, he slowed his pace to start stalking the herd ahead. If they were this close, they couldn't turn back in defeat now. Crouching down to lower his profile, he moved up toward the herd coming up behind a large boulder to use as a makeshift blind. Getting a quick peak, he could see the group of animals not more than a 150 yards forward.

The wind was still in their favor, but that could change. Turning toward Rawnie who still had the binoculars, he nodded for her to check it out. "See anything good in there worth harvesting?"

[member="Rawnie Tal'verda"]

 

[Rawnie Tal'verda]

It was getting late, but she followed. It was getting dangerous, but she followed. She was feeling nervous, but she did not doubt him. There was trust there, trust in her partner. Trust was important out here, essential to survival, but also essential to a relationship. Rawnie was young, but even she knew the importance of trusting her lover and partner completely. So when she saw the sun dipping low in the sky, she did not slow, she did not turn back. She kept her eyes on the tracks, looked for the signs of life. And when she found something, it pushed her forward.

When all hope appeared lost, she heard a cry, and she knew that her Mal had not let her down. His instincts had been correct, but they would need to hurry. She checked the herd, counting, taking inventory.

"Oh yes," she whispered, "You were right, Cyar'ika. Look."

She handed the binoculars to him next as she checked her rifle one more time. The moment either of them shot, the herd would scatter, but if he started with the bow, there would probably be a long enough pause that she could get in a few shots with the rifle. Even just taking in two would be enough of a start. She could work with it.

[member="Malcom Renolds"]

 

[Malcom Renolds]

Taking the binoculars from her, he scanned the herd. There were a few fairly decent looking bucks in the group. He frowned though when he caught the range. Turning toward Rawnie, he whispered, "Alright. I'm going to ghost around the right and try and get a bit closer. Maybe 50 more yards or so. To many trees still in the way for me to get a clean shot." Unclipping his helmet from his belt, he put it back on so he communication ability. "If you can be my eyes and give me a heads up of any sudden movement, I'll let you know when I'm in position. Then we take 'em together. Sound good?"

The question was really rhetorical. He knew full well she'd have him covered. Balling up a fist, he lightly hit her shoulder armor. "See you in a few, cyar'ika. Good luck." And with that, he slowly moved off toward his destination closer to the herd.

What they didn't know, was they weren't the only ones hunting the Shatual that day. Farther off to their right and behind them was a pack of mountains wolves moving silently in as well. With the lovers splitting apart and effectively cutting the pack off from their original intended targets. It would be an interesting next few minutes.

Time ticked on by and Malcom came back in over the comm. "Hey snow angel. I'm almost in position, just need to get past this large thicket and they'll be back in visual. How is the herd looking? Any movement?"

[member="Rawnie Tal'verda"]

 

[Rawnie Tal'verda]

She watched him walk away for a moment. Only for a few seconds, then she was back to watching the herd.

".ni kar'tayli gar..." she whispered once he was out of sight, "....darasuum."

Of course, she did not say it into the comms. This was simply a confession to the wind, either too shy or too proud to say it directly to him, she hoped that somehow the wind might carry her whisper to his ears. But she knew it wouldn't. She put her helmet on, and went right to work, slowly moving herself into position to get a better view.

"No movement," she answered, raising her rifle in preparation, "Everything looks good."

[member="Malcom Renolds"]

 

[Malcom Renolds]

Rounding the corner around the thicket, Malcom slowly raised his bow. It was just as she said. All was good. No movement! If everything stayed this way, they might both be able to claim a kill, and he'd finally be able to take his baby off planet and show her a bit of the galaxy. Naturally, he had not heard her declaration. As much as it would have lifted his soul to the heavens to hear, the hunter did not hear it himself. It was a declaration made to the wind and nothing more.

Taking aim at the Shatual buck that lay in front of him lazily grazing on the last blades of grass to be found before the winter closed in on them all, the hunter took a final breathe before holding it. Taking careful aim at the animal they had been tracking this whole time, he called back into the comm. "Firing in 3...2...1...loose." As his fingers released the arrow, the old fashioned weapon released from his hand and shot forth to the animal beyond.

It was an action repeated a million times throughout history. His arrow left his bow with a dull sounding twang and headed for the intended victim. A few seconds later, the arrow slammed into the side of the animal Malcom meant to hit.

[member="Rawnie Tal'verda"]