It was somewhat awkward, carrying a large amethyst bowl full of berries and a huge, wicked halberd.

The Sentinel found himself shifting them about, struggling not to drop one or the other. At length he sort of tipped the halberd to rest atop one shoulder, haft tucked beneath one elbow, the bowl held in both hands.

Once he'd reached the treeline again, down where the dark earth of the forest met the green swathes of meadow, he picked a landmark--a boulder--and made his way to it. He set the bowl at the foot of it, and covered it loosely with grass, so that it'd be there when he returned--and made yet another attempt to fly.

Blue wings sifted from his back in ethereal wisps, and he rose up, practically levitating there.

This time, as he slowly (and very carefully) flew about a few feet off the ground, he saw a pair of Kooru grazing back near the forest's edge.

The Sentinel dared raise a little higher, hefting his halberd in one hand--and headed for them.

He came in low and--carefully--fast, hefting the halberd in one hand. Just before he reached them, the creatures bolted, seeing him from their peripheral vision--and the Sentinel took aim for the one with blue striped in white. He thrust, aiming for the back of its neck, and felt the bite of metal into flesh and bone.

The kooru let out a single, strangled cry, and the Sentinel landed heavily beside it, jerking the weapon free. The spine was severed--it was already dead. And he realized now that one creature might be too small for... a jacket. His gaze shot up, sharply, for the two Kooru still fleeing into the forest.

He took off after them, knowing full well that if he missed his chance now, they'd be long gone in seconds. He had the advantage of proximity and size, but that wouldn't last him once they'd built momentum.

A gritting of teeth and a rush of adrenaline-powered sprint got him just in throw range: and he hurled the halberd, then watched as the blade's pointed end smashed into the Kooru's back. The leather would be damaged, but... hopefully the Tailor could still make use of it. The Sentinel rushed to the kooru, ending its thrashing with a gentle grip of jaws and neck, snapping its spine.

He then hoisted the little creature in his arms, hefted his halberd and strode back out into the field. He laid the second beside the first, and after ensuring carefully that both were dead, he set about butchering them.

He'd never learned to properly skin a creature, not in the way that a leatherworker would; he'd learned, more, to remove the meat from inside the hides. His work, then, was clumsy: an attempt to remove as much hide as he could, still intact, from the bodies.

The Sentinel then sat for a few minutes of rest--eating what he could. His stomach, as soon as he scented meat, gnawed at him. He hadn't eaten all day, and it would be a waste to leave the creatures to rot. So he ate--and then, once he'd finished, pushed up and lifted both skins.

As an afterthought, he checked the blue-and-white kooru for a gemstone. It wasn't any real concern, but he did want to be aware of the possibility that its hide, later on, would rot. He was fairly certain that as long as the skin was separated from the gem-bound body, it wouldn't--but just in case, he would be cautious with it.

He did find one: a chunk of rich green olivine, which he pulled free from the body and added to the bowl. Perhaps it would come in handy, at some point--as a trade object, or something other.

He then set everything down and set about searching the carcass of the other, redder Kooru for a gem.

What he found, to his surprise, was a rainbow gemstone: a beautiful striated column of pink, to blue, to teal and turquoise, into green and shining yellow. He'd never seen a gemstone like it, and easily disregarded the urge to shatter it then and there. The ever-present chaos in his mind held nothing to the sudden beauty of this stone.

He pried it from the ribcage very carefully, settling the bloodied rock in among his other prizes. But even as he walked, heading back toward Cepheus, his gaze lingered on the stone--drawn back to it again and again.

If this wasn't worth something in trade, he wasn't sure what was: as a dye, it would be... just about everything. All the colors, wrapped into one. But he didn't want to see it ground up. Rather, he sort of wanted to keep it, so he could... stare at it, from time to time.

Why, he didn't know; aesthetic beauty had never really drawn his eye.

As he left Pegasus, he didn't really stop to consider it.

exit Sentinel