The bitter cold of the Sacred Lands bites at her skin, but by now she's learned to ignore it. She had grown accustomed to the perpetual cold that the Sacred Lands boasted. Her animal hide outfit, adorned with machine parts and fashionably crafted by the towns best stitcher, proved to be useful against the crisp, biting winds. She treks across the unforgiving hills, wary of the mechanical sounds in the distance, and making sure they weren't getting too close...
Nyla was out for a casual hunt, something she did almost every single day for her tribe at Mother's Crown. It was tedious living the same life day in and day out, but at least the machines made it exciting for her; the fights they put up were exhilarating. Honestly, she was probably more well acquainted with the machines than the tribes people. Nyla didn't have a whole lot of friends. Not growing up and not now. She mostly stuck to herself and was rather withdrawn. But she has her reserved nature to thank for her talent with a bow.
Instead of spending time with friends growing up, she honed her archery skill with her brother. After he passed away, she only trained that much harder... following a period of never wanting to go anywhere or do anything thanks to her depression. The sleepless nights stopped after she started tiring herself out everyday with training and that's when things starting taking a turn for the better. She started feeling like she had a purpose again and that purpose was to avenge her brother and figure out how and why he died.
Nyla's mother still lives at home, but she is old and ill and cannot do very much, so Nyla hunts primarily to support her dying mother. And at that thought, her focus returns to the wilds in front of her. She's perched on a rock, peering down at a herd of striders grazing on the grass below, completely unaware of the presence above. Her hand immediately goes for the hunter bow strapped around her, and then for a fire arrow.
She pulls back until the string is as taught as it can get and she can feel the heat from the flame at the point of the arrow on the right side of her face. A drop of sweat trickles past her eye and she releases. The arrow flies at lightning speed at one of the striders and pierces it directly in the blaze canister on its rump, causing a fiery explosion around it. The targeted strider collapses to the ground, spitting electricity and dripping blaze. The injured striders around it disperse in a panic, and once they are a good distance away, Nyla drops below to the one she had taken out and harvests its parts, putting all she could carry in her satchel.
While she was stuffing her bag with the mechanical parts, she hears that unmistakable trudging sound of an approaching Sawtooth... The commotion of the explosion and the frenzied striders must've drawn it near. She does a quick tuck and roll into the tall, sweeping grass next to her and ducks down out of sight, her eyes searching the field for the huge mechanized beast, its own eyes more than likely gleaming yellow out of curiosity.
[a.n.] Interested in what you just read? That's a post I did, taken from my play by post forum roleplay which is basically a forum where members will take on the roles of their own characters and interact with each other in an imaginary world. It's a writer's paradise! Check out my profile for more information and for a link!
