((Surface, Unknown Planet in the Briar Patch))
Hours had passed since leaving the Cave of the Survivors. If he could keep everyone fed regularly, they could last on this planet for a lifetime. Establish their own small colony so as least not to die. Though he held out hope that the Empire would send a rescue when the transports were not heard from.
Deep in the hunt now, all those worries were placed in the back of his mind. On their way to find shelter a few days before, he'd seen some porcine like creatures in the bushes. He was determined to bring one back. A feast to lighten the spirits of the survivors and real food to give hope.
He stalked slowly through the underbrush. Stepping lightly, toe to heel. Knees bent, leaning forward to keep his profile low. He could hear them just a few meters away. Illhea* away. He crouched lower, extending his left foot. Looking through the foliage, he could make them out. They lumbered slowly and just as the first one entered a small clearing in the bushes, Talar lurched forward, putting his weight quickly onto his outstretched foot while throwing his fist forward, launching the sharpened stick he made as a spear. As the spear impacted, driving into the beast, it turned and ran uphill to a nearby ridge and the others split off disappearing into the woods.
He followed the blood trail of the wounded beast up to the ridge and found it laying there dead. A successful hunt. As he retrieved his spear, he looked into the valley below and could see movement. He wasn't sure what they were, but they were not humanoid. Though in the rough shape of a biped, they looked more like living rocks. He ducked into the underbrush so as not to be seen and dragged his loot of the day back down the hill before making his way back to the cave.
illhea=steps, roughly measuring 1 meter.
Lieutenant Junior Grade Aine Sherlock