A Conversation for Holes in History - FWR - The Chase.

The Chase. Part 1.

Post 1


Victorious William, to more decent rules
Subdu'd our Saxon fathers, taught to speak
The proper dialect, with horn and voice
To cheer the busy hound, whose well-known cry
His list'ning peers approve with joint acclaim.
From him successive huntsmen learn'd to join
In bloody social leagues, the multitude
Dispers'd, to size, to fort their various tribes,
To rear, feed, hunt, and discipline the pack.

The Chace.

William Somerville. 1735.


Rulf cursed as his bare feet slid in the marshy ground leading to the rake, cursed again as his younger brother Rowan nimbly leapt over him, cursed even more as the two coursers yapped excitedly at the game.

If the riders caught up with them, there would be little humour in their futures. Blinded or castrated as poachers at best, hung as common thieves at worst, or both, (there was always that outcome), depending on the mood of the Master of the Chase!

He snatched up the brace of muddy hares, and sped after Rowan and the stupidly noisy lurchers.

The forest thinned and the track firmed, smoke from cooking fires signalled the small hide ahead.

Skirting the crude buildings, careful not to give the family evidence to pass on, Rulf darted left, into the woods that marked the forest boundaries, and served as home.

Bird whistles and animal calls echoed through the trees, Rulf grinned, his Da had seen him, sending out the signal calls to warn the others and offer safety.

The small clearing, hastily stamped out fire, Ma wrapping untanned hides, their few belongings piled over with dry leaves, all this taken in with a blink.

Canvas being held open, a pit with hazel cages beneath for the outlawed dogs, swapped for the two "lawed" mongrels, which now, given freedom, chased each other around Da's feet, running awkwardly on their mutilated forepaws, lawful to possess, but useless in the hunt.

The hares, and the squirrel Rowan had caught, were quickly wrapped and buried, Ma sitting on the heap of leaves, calmly sorting berries and nuts into baskets, as the sounds of horsemen grew ever louder.

Rulf and Rowan were helping Da, scratching at the ground for roots and tubers, pushing away the crippled pups from their daily toil, when the Earl's under-forester dismounted

The Chase. Part 1.

Post 2

Dmitri Gheorgheni - Post Editor

smiley - applause Very vivid, and makes me think complicated thoughts about Robin Hood. smiley - winkeye

The Chase. Part 1.

Post 3


A promising start, FWR!

The Chase. Part 1.

Post 4


smiley - book This is promising indeed!

The Chase. Part 1.

Post 5

Caiman raptor elk - Escaping the Array

Speedy storytelling. I like it.
Suspense is killing me. (it already killed the hares)

The Chase. Part 1.

Post 6


It is a bit 100mph, but that's me!

The Chase. Part 1.

Post 7

Caiman raptor elk - Escaping the Array

We can only do 100 kph here now, because of the environment. Unless it's between 19:00 an 6:00 hours. The you can still do 130. (apparently the environment doesn't have night vision)

The Chase. Part 1.

Post 8

Tavaron da Quirm - Arts Editor

smiley - laugh

Very exciting start!

The Chase. Part 1.

Post 9


no hanging around but then it is called The Chase!!

The Chase. Part 1.

Post 10

SashaQ - happysad

smiley - ok

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