Unlikely Pair (Addali)

Within the Forest of Avalon, only several miles from the Dukedom seat of Candor, Solomon hunted alone. Usually many nobles hunt par force, for a multitude of reasons, but above all because it is considered the purest and noblest form of hunting where the hunt par force was a general makeup where it would be a team of hunters which required each participant to have a specific role. Yet, Solomon hated such, in the words of his former master at arms in his youth, the young Prince was told a startled or angry wild boar is a desperate fighter and therefore, the pig-sticker must possess a good eye, a steady hand, a firm seat, a cool head and a courageous heart. Which are all features necessary in being the epitome of a good Knight, thus in the Princes personal opinion to hunt such a beast in par force would only be dishonourable to oneself and remove the respect for the prey. Solomon wore only a black gamberson for protection, his steed what usually bore him was held by a squire on the outskirts of the forest, at least a two mile from his current position. Armed only with his shortsword placed firmly within his scabbard and a boar spear. The spear itself is relatively short and heavy and has two "lugs" on the spearsocket behind the blade, to act as a barrier to prevent an injured and furious boar from working its way up the shaft of the spear to inflict injury upon Solomon's person.

Solomon made his way deeper into the darkness of the wood, each step leaves a fresh, crisp footprint in the snow. It gave a sense that allowed Solomon to contemplate as if he was the only soul to have ever walked here, yet the tracks of a stray Wild Boar prove otherwise. The Prince found the beast grazing on a small patch of grass that wasn't covered in the white powdered snow. Solomon stared is an almost awe struck sense the beast was powerful, and toned yet as graceful as only a beast of the wild could be, watching with silent breaths, he'd lower himself to a crouching position, moving in between the thick timber of the tree's, rolling his steps carefully as to not cause an unnatural noise which could spook the creature into bolting. Truth be told, he had to catch the beast by surprise and hope it charged instead of fleeing. That would be the most effective method. The Knight would continue with his sapphire eyes caught on the beast, appreciating nature's ferocity and beauty which one could say the Boar represented. Solomon bit his lower lip readying himself as he got into a good position, getting ready to attack the Boar unawares.

Solomon was posed to strike, his breathing steady as he watched the boar with purpose. A single drop of sweat in anticipation to the adrenaline in fueled quarry what would begin streamed down from his brow as he tightened the grip of his spear. Crouched in his kneeling position, he was about to begin his confrontation with his prey when suddenly a blur of movement shot past from the side of Solomon's peripheral vision. The arrow cut through the air with a dynamic elegant sound before it hit its mark. The Prince took a sharp inhale of his breath as the sudden revelation that he was not alone, he did not hear the bow being strung or the release of the shot, so other than the general direction in which the arrow came Solomon didn't know the distance. What was disturbing was with his Squire on the designated hunting track what lead into the forest, this would of been an unlicensed poacher. In normal circumstances, Solomon would confront the poacher ready to bring about justice, his castle forged armour usually enough to withstand the force of a bow outside of a longbow.

Justifying that caution in this situation was more than astute rather than confronting this new threat in only his gamberson. In Leostonnian culture, it was frowned upon to use ranged weaponry as it was unhonourable and thus shunned the chivalric virtues, yet peasants were trained in the bow and thus the Prince in this moment knew that any combatant he might now face would not be beholden to the laws of nobility. Solomon maneuvered himself to have his back pressed up against the tree and to the clearing, still crouched low. "Who goes there, show yourself, into the clearing then lay down your bow", the Prince bellowed, hoping that the dense forest provided enough distortion to his voice that the poacher couldn't pinpoint the direction of his voice as the sound would travel differently. Looking over his shoulder, Solomon would narrow his sapphire eyes, awaiting for the poacher to show him/herself.

Solomon lowered himself to a prone position, upon the forest floor lied trees of yesteryear, fallen in storms long forgotten. The seasons have been harsh, stripping away the bark and outer layers, yet rendering them all the more beautiful. They have the appearance of driftwood, twisting in patterns that remind Solomon of seaside waves yet he had no time to admire their beauty as he crawled to press himself against one of the felled gigantic trees. He spared a glance towards the clearing as he heard the faint sounds of movement. In the forest, the sky had vanished almost completely, only a few fragments of blue remain- like scattered pieces of an impossible jigsaw puzzle broke through the canopy. The air was rich with the fragrance of leaves, loam, damp, and how the distinct smell of the spilled blood of the boar. Even so, many hours after the rains have passed, the soiled remains wet as it seemed to have plastered the Princes once tidy regal gamberson, the moist floor seemed to be releasing its heady fog which while it served to conceal Solomon it added to the dramatic scene which began to unfold as the hooded figure entered the clearing and approached the fallen Boar. The Prince narrowed his glare in awestruck examination as the cloaked shadow touched the blood upon the floor, while rationally he had seen such experienced hunted do so before the immediate reaction was to think of witchcraft given the atmosphere which was unfolding.

Solomon thought little of the high pitched whistle, but soon his attention napped in the direction of a loud galloping, the branches and foliage of the Forest snapping as a gigantic black stallion broke free into the clearing and came aside the Rider. It seemed like a tale of myth, the Prince thought back to the days when his nursemaid who tell him the tall tales of the fay and the otherworldly creatures what lurked within the hidden dark places of the forests. Few outsides of the Nobility would even be permitted to ride and own horse, so this figure was clearly no mere peasant despite shunning the noble virtues of chivalry by using a bow. Steeling himself, grasping his spear tightly Solomon rose, his countenance now dirtied and spoilt from his hidden position. He'd muster his courage as he strode forward into the clearing attempting to muster what regal domineering presence he could although it would come across as a mere jest due to his current appearance coated in the mud and foliage of the forest floor. "Thee there, I demand to know who thou art.  Thee has taken my prey.  Under who's name doth thee hunt in these woods?". Solomon would brandish his spear in the direction of Addali in somewhat of a threatening gesture.

Solomon felt somewhat ridiculous as the figure didn't immediately answer. His face on contorted into a constant grimace as he regarded the cloaked huntress as she settled her horse and then merely regarded him in silent scrutiny. It was inconceivable for the Prince and thus he was unnerved by the woman's indifferent disinterested demeanor. The first thought what came to the forefront of Solomon's mind was that the confidence the woman displayed clearly meant she didn't intend to suffer any consequences for her actions and thus the reality dawned on him that his quarrel here might mean an attempt on his life.

As she spoke in a dismissive fashion, Solomon visually seemed stunned, his right eyebrow began to twitch and he lowered his spear. The expression now upon his features could be attached to someone who had just been slapped across the face at a tavern without ever knowing there was a person there to deliver said slap. A wave of foolishness on his own part washed over Solomon, as he thought of this encounter as the same as when he first left the palace as but a mere boy when the prince had never been out of the palace of the Leostonnian capital or its grounds. For him all floors were marble, all stair rails were ornate mahogany, carved and polished so that it shined. Family portraits were painted in oils and hung in gold frames. Furniture was all handmade by master craftsmen. Nothing ever got dirty. He had never seen dust in his Twelve years of life. The air was scented with fresh flowers every day of the year, yet he had never seen a flower ever die or wilt. Food was always perfect and served precisely on time, but he had never seen a kitchen. This was until he first left the Palace to go on his first tour of the Kingdom, where he ay the slums of the capital, and then the toiling of the serfs in the fields. The foolishness he felt then for his own naivety was akin to what he was feeling now. He releases a sigh of somewhat defeat as he dug his spear into the ground. "I am Sir Solomon Wyrmfyre, Duke of Candor, Knight of the Flame and Prince of this Realm. I ask you again as a formality, who art thou?"