[center][b][i][u]Arthur Pendragon - Twelve Days After Arrival[/u][/i][/b] [/center] Heavy footfalls echoed through the trees, as leaves danced through the air. A young boy, clad in grimy clothes that hadn't been washed in days and were in need of repair, wielding a bow and arrow gave chase. The target? A beautiful white-tailed deer he had been tracking for a day and a half. The beast had given him the slip twice now and cost him twice as many arrows. The hunger pains in his stomach leaving him drained and irritable. But he would not give up. This hunt, if successful, would feed him for days. As the dear broke through the trees and into a clearing Arthur saw his chance. Stopping at the edge of the clearing he knocked an arrow and took aim. "Lord above, help my arrow to fly true." As the arrow loosed, it audibly whistled as it soared through the air Finding its mark. As the arrow pierced its jugular, the deer dropped instantly, writhing in pain as it began choking on its own blood. Arthur was quick to action, slinging his bow over his shoulder and drawing his knife. Making his way to the poor animal he placed a hand it gently, in attempt to comfort it before plunging his blade into its heart putting it out of its misery. "Rest now. Be at peace. Your life was not taken in vain." It wasn't the largest deer but nevertheless, its weight was enough to cause Arthur to struggle as he lifted it off the ground and through it over his shoulder, careful not to damage his bow. With his hunt concluded, Arthur headed back into the tree line. If he remembered correctly there should be a small pond nearby that he could set up camp by. As he hiked through the forest, his mind finally free to wander, he looked back on the events of the past few days. The fact was he had no idea what he was doing here or what Merlin wanted him to learn. This time was strange and full of things that quite frankly scared him. Somehow the people of the future managed to tame beasts made of metal and ride within them. Not only that they somehow managed to capture lightning in bottles and use it to light entire villages at night. That wasn't even the weirdest thing about this time. Arthur had seen woman in relations with other woman, men in relations with men. They had tiny people that they kept locked in boxes to put on plays for their own amusement. This land he found himself in was truly strange at times. The worst thing he had yet to experienced was these small handheld devices that spit fire and metal. Arthur was still nursing a wound in his side left from the cursed device. The worst part about it was he had no chance to react. It happened in the blink of an eye. As he continued through the tree's they eventually opened up again to reveal a quaint little pond. Dropping the deer a few feet from the pond along with his bow, arrows, and sword, Arthur made his way to the water's edge. Hesitating briefly, he knelt down and dipped his hands into the water to wash away the blood from his hunt. He then stripped off his shirt and began cleaning his wound, letting out a low hiss through his teeth as he did so. The pain itself was unlike anything he had ever felt. Somehow the cursed device had managed to punch a hole right through him, but by the luck of the lord they had missed anything vital. If it hadn't been for his fire cantrip cauterizing the wound, he would surely have bled out within the first day. When he found his hands and wound sufficiently clean, he rose and began his search for firewood. Being in a forest it was relatively easy to gather a nice pile of wood. Once the wood had been gathered and arranged into a firepit, Arthur stood back a few steps. Focusing his thoughts on the image of a fire erupting he reached out with his left hand, and with a snap of his fingers a flurry of embers exploded forth from his fingertips washing over the dried wood. The wood sizzled for a moment before dying down. Letting out a frustrated sigh, Arthur focused yet again before snapping his fingers and unleashing another torrent of embers, this time following it with a counterclockwise swirl of his hand sending a small gust of wind swirling through the wood, breathing further life into the embers until a small fire began. "Yes!" Arthur's excitement was short lived however as he realized he had to begin cleaning his kill. Even with his injury the process only took him an hour and a half. Thankfully Arthur had had the foresight to place a few venison strips over the fire to start cooking, so by the time he finished cleaning his kill he had a few cutlets ready to eat. Grabbing his dinner, Arthur took a seat by the fire, said grace, and dug in. The fact was, he had been living off of squirrels and rabbits for the last sense he arrived in this time. This venison was like a godsend, and he thanked the lord for such. As he ate, he couldn't help but think back on his training with Merlin. That man had pushed into many a trials and tribulations, simply to make him a better ruler? How was a twelve-year-old boy getting the shit kicked out of themselves by three grown adults supposed to make him a great king? How was getting stabbed, and slashed, and burnt supposed to make him a better lord? How was hunting a wolf pack with nothing but a dagger supposed to make him a better man? Maybe he did have a purpose behind his teachings, but sometimes the Wizard could be truly cruel. Ok, so he taught Arthur how to use a bow and arrow. How to wield a sword and cast spells. He taught Arthur to read and write, but he never just talked to Arthur. He never sat him down and asked him how he was doing or feeling. It was nonstop training for as long as he could remember. In fact, sense coming to this land, his time spent in the forest was the first time he was able to relax in quite some time. Alas, with his meal finished, and his belly full, it was time to practice his swordplay. Standing up and stretching, he let out a pained groan as his side was awash with burning pain again. This combined with the privacy allotted to him in the forest, made Arthur opt to leave his shirt off as to not aggravate the wound any more than it already was. Grabbing his blade Arthur took up his stance and began to practice. "Come at me goat fucker! Hyaaa!"