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[vorrutyer]

Who: Prior(ly) (priorly) & Byerly (vorrutyer)
What: By fusses about Prior's life potentially being in danger and consequently endangers his life. He's sssoooo good at his job.
When: The 26thish
Where: The jungle
Warning(s): Cursing without a doubt


[ By would not, by choice, be coming out into the jungle. It's a dreadful place, truly: full of buzzing insects and sweat and mud and foul odors. Give him the open plains stretching to the sea any day - better a hundred times over than this, the wretched sticky stinking jungle.

But he has a task out there, doesn't he? And the task is this: ensure that Prior has the tools he needs to avoid a bit of murder. And so he finds a relatively open clearing, far away from any place where anyone would be alerted by noise, and settles them down there. He brushes off a fallen log for Prior to sit upon, and then asks, a bit solicitously: ]

All right there, dear fellow? Do you need a rest?

Comments

[priorly]

[Well where's the loop of tree branches Byerly worked into a target before? Ah. That's what Prior aims for with the next shot, pressing a shoulder against Byerly until he moves to accomodate the change in direction. Not quite a wall so much as a revolving door.

This time Prior clips the target at the very edge. The dent is examined (he can't decide if he should be proud, but is.

And another. More guidance, careful positioning. This actually makes a hole roughly where it's supposed to, and it's like Robin Hood splitting his own arrow. Before the jungle has recovered from its shocked silence, Prior's taking the target from where it hangs and turning back to Byerly.]

A trophy! We can put it on the wall.

[Behind him the sounds of the deep undergrowth start again. Gurgling birdsong. Crickets. A low, rumbling sound and a shadow falling across the grass behind where Prior stands.]