Donald
"It's a deer. What good a prize is it, besides the obvious meat?"

*Ling turns her head out and her leg inward to try and look at the wound. Red silk becomes a darker crimson, stained by the blood.*

"It didn't go too far. The armor negated a lot of the force. However, centaur are known for their strength, hence why it's still serious."

*Ling winces in pain as she touches the shaft.*

"Was the arrow barbed?"
Shelley
"The fur would fetch good silver, especially at this time. The winter months will soon approach, so people are after good warm skins."
*He explained, kneeling beside her and opening up his sachel - pulling out a roll of cloth.*
"No, not this one. I don't like using barbed arrows, they fly too slow for my tastes. Just a normal arrow, it should come out easier."
*His tone was tinged with anxiety as he gritted his teeth, the thought of having hurt someone with his incompetence wounding his pride as a race famous for their archery.*
Donald
"Oh, thank fuck. I was worried that I would need to do something else."

*A squelching sound can be heard as Ling pulls out the arrow. She winces in pain as the sharp tip ever so slightly slices on its way out. The macen rips off a piece of cloth from her right sleeve, tightly wrapping it around her thigh.*

"Well then, as we're here already. Got any food or drink? You *Did* Shoot me."
Shelley
"Yes, of course... Here."
*He sighed, opening up his second satchel and producing a leaf-wrapped object, handing it to her.*
"You'll want to wrap that up properly - here, it's clean."
*He offered her the roll of cloth, pursing his lips.*
Donald
*Ling accepts the leaf wrapped object, carefully unwrapping it, whatever it was, as well as the roll of cloth.*

"Thanks."

*Tightly, she wraps the cloth around her leg, and soon the red bloodstain is no longer visible.*

"I didn't get your name. I'm Ling."
Shelley
"Ah, how rude of me - Circine Katale."
*He introduced himself briefly, bowing slightly as he wore a weary smile.*
"I was hoping this hunt would go well today... Seems the spirits are to spite me today."
*He mused with a hollow chuckle, staring at her wound blankly.*
Donald
*Opening the leaf wrapped object, it reveals a lot of dried, salted vegetables. Sigh.*

"Do centaurs really eat like horses?"

*Ling doesn't complain too much though as she chews on a leek; the plant is a major part of her culture, after all.*

"Spirits. Any particular ones?"
Shelley
*Circine gave a light chuckle, nodding slightly, but explaining himself further.*
"Yes, indeed they do. Though we cook our vegetables. I once only ate plants, but the nomad's life demands more... Efficient sustenance."
*He unfolded his own leaf-wrapped vegetables, picking out a single lean tube of sausage, breaking it in two and handing a half to her.*
"Which spirits, hm? I know not their names, I'm not shaman, but I know they watch over my tribe - and I know a few followed me on my travels."
*His gaze was drawn to her swords, their design a stark reflection of his master's sword - a 'katana', she had called it.*
"Your blades... They have a peculiar curve. Is that cultural?"
Donald
"Ah there we go."

*Ling gratefully takes the sausage, taking a bite out of the salty meat.*

"From what I've heard, everything has a spirit. From the food we eat, to the grass we sit on."

"Hm, my blades? I believe it is. The curve gives it beauty, as while a straight sword may still be beautiful, I find that the shape of the *Katana* Is far more appealing. It's also easier to draw out of the sheathe due to the curve, and easier to slice with as well. The curve is created when the blade is quenched; some might say it's the spirits."
Shelley
"Ah, I thought it was a katana. My master had one similar. Though, she stressed that it was a 'dishonoured blade'. I know not what she meant..."
*He mused once more, shifting his weight so he could gave Ling more directly, unsheathing his Ringer and inspecting it between his hands.*
"I do like the straight edge of western blades, though the steppes were home to many a scimitar and sabre."