The Legendary 12
Pylis of Rikanda
Pylis loves animals and nature. The things she cherishes most in companions is loyalty and trust.
Class: Ranger (tentative)
I know father taught me how to hunt at a very young age, and I should be use to it by now, but I still prefer only to do it when necessary. Killing for the sake of killing still churns my stomach. I understand that something has to die in order for my family and I to stay alive, but that does not give us a license to hunt every animal we see. I prefer to bond with nature, to make friends with the animals. I especially like to talk with canines. I have one wolf that I am particularly close too. He and I have been spending time together for three weeks now. We take long walks together; on the walk we took today, he showed me a beautiful orchard. It has apples of all kinds, the sweetest pears you’ve ever tasted, and millions of berries. My wolf friend and I also hunt together. Our agreement is basically that if he helps me feed my family, my mother will cure him of any injuries or illnesses he acquires.
Mother has gotten even better at healing recently. Now she can cure anything from a runny nose to a scrape so deep you can see the bone. She has tried to pass on some of her skills, but I just can’t get the hang of it. Unlike me, mother does it all so well that she doesn’t even have to think about it anymore. This comes in very handy when my father comes home from one of his hunting excursions, like he did today. He was gone for a four whole weeks this time. He went off on our horse, Chestnut, and hunted as many animals as pelts he can pile onto Chestnuts back behind him. He then took these pelts all the way to Dagon’s Rock, where he traded them for healing supplies for mother, and all the other things we can’t make or grow ourselves. The reason he couldn’t trade them at our local market is because everyone in these parts can hunt themselves and would never pay money for something they can get on their own. By the time he came back, he was so full of cuts and scraps that mother had to spend a whole hour fixing him up.
Father really is a wonderful hunter. If he weren’t so busy working the fields with his, “pets,” as he likes to call them, he would hunt all day, every day. I am so thankful that the crops keep him busy; for if they didn’t I’m sure he would follow his heart and hunt the way he likes too. I would be so appalled if I had to see him carry those pelts home all the time. Just thinking about it makes me feel sick.
I swear father has some sort of mystical power about him. When he and his, “pets,” walk up and down the rows of crops, singing to them, it’s as though I can see them growing right before my eyes. Once, when I was over at the neighboring farm, three-miles-away, I saw the father of the family walking up and down his crop rows the same way father does. I could even hear him singing the same song that my father sings, titled, “Growing Ever Stronger.” I am not sure who wrote it; when I asked my father about it once he said that no man ever did, the sea came up with the tune, the land with the beat, and the sky with the lyrics. I swear this song is why the people in Rikanda have never experienced a drought, flood, or natural disaster of any kind.
I have to go hunt and gather ingredients for our dinner now, but I will right again in a couple of weeks.
Bye for now,
Pylis of Rikanda
Pylis is an only child.
She loves to sit under the trees and have long talks with her canine friends, who she swears talk back to her. She also loves to leave home for up to five days and sleep in the wilderness. When she goes out on these trips, she brings nothing with her except for the clothes on her back. She has to feed herself and find a safe place to sleep.
She hates: killing for fun, learning to heal, and tedious tasks.
One of her desires that she keeps to herself is to someday travel the world. One of the many reasons she doesn’t peruse this dream is because she is afraid that if she leaves her parents too soon, they will think that she hates living with them in Rikanda.