Verfolgen [Rolf]

[Gerhardt Abt]

The wilderness had always excited Gerhardt. For most of his early youth he had been kept inside his uncle’s residence in upper Königsberg, his caretaker fearing that Gerhardt and his siblings would somehow be caught up in the Great War if they so much as stepped out of the city's boundries. As if Königsberg was any safer. Shots from the big Russian artillery guns would still hit home in the city’s suburbs, destroying houses and reminding the frightened inhabitents of East Prussia that the war was real, not just some spectere of a forgotten nightmare, long pushed into the back of minds and out of their lives. Little Willy Gambschweiger had been killed by one of Germany’s own big Krupp guns. One of the Kaiser’s artillery cadets had gotten careless and the life of one of the Abt childrens' little friends had been taken away because of it. The first time Gerhardt could remember being away from civilization was directly after the Great War, when cousin Theo, not yet Gerhardt's adopted father, had brought him out near the coast of the baltic sea, where the big pine trees grew right up next to the freezing water. If the pilot closed his eyes he could still remember the lap of cold seawater on his bare feet, the sand finding its way into his underclothes, the laugh of Theo as he watched his small cousins running away from the surging waves of the tide.

It had also been Theo that had first taught 13-year old Gerhardt horsemanship and the art of the hunt. His gaurdian had brought him into the woods and simply told him to kill something. When a confused young boy asked Theo how to work the rifle that he held in his hands, the man had showed the young boy the fundamentals of shooting; how to line up the sights, hit a target, and how to reload. That same day they came home with four rabbits and two squirrels hanging of their saddels, which were made into a delicious stew by Theo’s adoring wife.

As Leutnant Abt thought about his troubled past he had almost completely forgotten about the task at hand. Some people called him aloof and distant, but most of the time he had dismissed the rabble as fuel to the burners of the many rumors about the officer, but suddenly he realized that there very well might have been truth to those statements. As his horse trotted alongside the four other horsemen Gerhardt straightened the Luftwaffe officer’s cap that sat upon his head so that the brim sheilded against the sun, which was setting fast and was at a rather uncomforatable spot for the riders. The silver and blue of the hat was dusty and smelled of earth after being on his head throughout the day, for it had been dropped, scuffed, and even soaked with stream water to cool his overheated head several times. The cap was the only thing that marked him as a member of Germany’s air service, for other than that he wore fitted black riding trousers and specially made leather boots. On his upper body was a sweater of grey wool that Gerhardt adored, its elbows reenforced with leather and its turtleneck pulled high around his skinny throat.

The hunting expedition had started at 0600, and they were nearly at sunset. At about 1100 one of the men, an overweight Luftwaffe officer by the name of Bachmann had shot a monster of a boar. It had to be the biggest hog that Abt had ever seen in his lifetime. Bachmann had hit it in its lower abdomen, a non-kill shot on account of the obese man’s bad shooting. The boar had bolted they had been on the chase since. Since then navigating the rocky terrain of Southern Bavaria had claimed two horses, their legs being twisted and riders having to escourt them back to the lodge. Several others, including Bachmann, had given up, believing the hunt was going on too long and it would never be fruitful enough to drag the bodies of them and their horses onward.

Only four officers remained. Along with Gerhardt, there was a Luftwaffe officer by the name of Jäger, a Wehrmacht Oberst names Whimberg, and another Luftwaffe Oberleutnant with the name of Klinkstetten. They rode on, following the trail of blood on the floor of the Coniferous forest with rifles at the ready. Gerhardt had lost most hope that they would find the big male hog, but he rode on for pure love of the outdoors. His rear end had become sore from sitting on the rough leather saddle on his grey dapple horse, but he simply shrugged the pain off and checked the action of his Krag-Jorgensen repeating rifle. He had inherited the firearm when his Uncle Wilhelm had died and had found it was quite an ideal hunting rifle, naming it Hyäne after the African wild dogs that’s cackeling reminded him of the report of the rifle. [Hyena]

After a few more minutes of riding Abt withdrew a leatherbound canteen from one of his saddlebags, taking a long swig of water before returning it his pouch. After taking a drink he also withdrew an apple and a long bladed hunting knife imported from Finland. Attempting to guide his stallion with his legs only the Leutnant sliced a generous portion of the red delicous and rode closer to Jäger extending the blade to him and offering him the piece of the apple, trying to spark conversation.

[Rolf Jäger]

The smell of leather, horses and gunpowder were familiar and treasured things to Hauptmann Rolf Jäger and after all the hours wasted sitting in dusty offices and meeting rooms, these particular sensations were more than enough to make his blood rush wilder in his veins. The young, sandy-haired Luftwaffe Hauptmann was sitting astride a dark-brown gelding, wearing a light brown hunting jacket, a pair of darker riding breeches and riding boots that had obviously seen some amount of use before. His peaked cap denoted his rank as an officer of the Luftwaffe, but the Hauptmann had apparently cared little for his overall appearance while hunting. Dust was clinging to his skin and Rolf could feel his scalp sweating uncomfortably underneath his cap. Usually Rolf was a man who appreciated and expected luxury, but he had learned to cope with these quite unavoidable discomforts of hunting. The excitement, the freedom and the eventual feeling of accomplishment were more than enough to override the effects of sore muscles and dirty clothes. Rolf had learned to ride at a very young age, his father having stables full of fine Hannoverian horses, and Rolf had spent almost all of his free time around the animals in his youth. Having scarcely any friends and being closely guarded by his parents most of the time, the adventurous young Jäger had needed some outlet for all of his extra energy. Hunting was a socially accepted and respected sport fit for the son of a baron and Rolf had never missed a chance to take part in a hunt.

Even with the dirt sticking to his skin and the aching muscles of his body yearning for a brief spot of rest, Rolf had immensely enjoyed the day spent in the old Bavarian forest. A few of the other hunters had decided to give up the chase earlier, but Rolf had been among the men who had wanted to push on and find the wounded behemoth of a boar. Rolf was far too prideful to admit defeat and he considered anyone quitting a lesser man. That blob of fat by the name of Bachmann had most likely given up the hunt only because he had looked ready to keel off from the saddle of his poor mount. Rolf could understand the riders who had been forced to lead off their horses due to the injuries they had suffered in the difficult terrain, but all the other men who had decided to return to the cabin were nothing more but lazy cowards, unfit to even call themselves military officers of the Reich. Oh no, Rolf was ready to show that a true hunter would stick to the trail of his quarry relentlessly as long as the daylight would allow them to continue the search. Rolf did not carry the surname Jäger for nothing, after all.

The leather of his saddle creaked as Rolf sat up straighter, resting the fine, decorated shotgun over his other knee. The double-barreled Krieghoff shotgun had been Rolf's chosen weapon for hunting for multiple years now and it had been customized according to his wishes. The silver plates on the sides of the gun had been painstakingly carved with relief engravings of a mounted hunter and his dog in chase of a magnificent stag leaping over a fallen tree. The initials "RJ" had been added underside the trigger guard and all the metallic parts had been carefully decorated with ornamental leaves throughout. The dark walnut stock of the shotgun showed some evidence of heavy use and it was quite clear that when it came to money, Hauptmann Jäger had no shortage of it. He had been saying very little during the entire hunt, making him appear quite cold and aloof. Rolf hardly considered the other men worthy of his words, although the fact that these particular men were still taking part in the chase made Rolf begrudgingly think at least slightly better of them.

The dark-brown gelding, König, was chewing on his bit anxiously and Rolf extended his other hand to gently rub the animal's neck. Hauptmann Jäger often had trouble with people and his arrogant manners had earned him quite a few enemies, but when it came to animals and especially horses, Rolf was a whole another person entirely. Horses did not understand anything about barons or lawyers and they cared little if you had money or not. When in the presence of animals Rolf unconsciously dropped his haughty manners and the Hauptmann muttered quiet, reassuring words at König. Even though the man was carrying a short riding whip in his other hand, he never actually used it on the animal. Glancing towards the sun, the Hauptmann had to squint his eyes and only now did he realize how low the sun was already. They had very little time before it would be dark and even Rolf wondered if they should have been truly heading back towards the hunting cabin.

Rolf could sense someone approaching him and he tilted his head slightly to the side to observe a horse and it's rider moving closer to him and König. He could recognize the Luftwaffe Leutnant Abt, Rolf had not had time to form an opinion on the man quite yet. Much like Rolf himself, the Leutnant had been keeping to himself and Rolf had to wonder what the man might have wanted with him now. Much to his surprise, he could see the Leutnant offering a piece of fresh, red apple to him on top of a fine hunting knife. Could the man even not address him properly? Such gall!

Rolf's eyes flared with anger very briefly, but then a slow smile crept up to his lips instead. There was sudden benevolence to the Hauptmann's features and his eyes narrowed as he smiled at Abt. The Hauptmann made sure that the safety of his expensive Krieghoff was on before he slipped the shotgun in a leather holster attached to the side of König's saddle. For a moment it appeared as if the Hauptmann was going to pick up the piece of apple so kindly offered to him by the Luftwaffe Leutnant, but suddenly his riding whip came up, snapping at the knife with a sharp thwip. Rolf really made no effort to try and hit only the apple offered to him by the Leutnant and actually relished in the fact that the whip might have, just accidentally, snapped also on the Leutnant's fingers. Arrogance and disgust were evident on the Hauptmann's features as his steel-grey eyes bored coldly into Abt's. "Sehe ich wie ein verdammtes Pferd zu Ihnen aus, Leutnant?" Jäger growled in his slightly raspy and low voice, his white teeth gritted together in a clear and undisguised expression of irritation.


Translation:

"Sehe ich wie ein verdammtes Pferd zu Ihnen aus, Leutnant?"
"Do I look like a damn horse to you, Leutnant?"

[Gerhardt Abt]

[I apologize if this is not considered a well-written post. I am still new to the site and I'm sorry if the writing is a little unpolished. If you don't understand anything about the thread, feel free to ask in the c-box/PM]

Hauptmann Jäger tilted his head slightly as Gerhardt extended the blade, juice from the apple scrumptiously spilling over the cutting edge of the hunting knife. Jäger turned on the safety of his weapon and returned it to a leather holster strapped to his saddle. The shotgun Abt’s superior held was clearly a fine rifle, one of expert craftsmanship that would fetch a high price on the day-to-day weapon’s market. The Krieghoff had ornately engraved silver plates on each of its sides, and the fine walnut stock was worn and chipped, but it still showed that a pretty piece of Reichsmarks had been poured into the hunting shotgun. Gerhardt’s own Krag-Jorgensen looked plain in comparison, but the Leutnant wondered if it performed as well as his trusty Norwegian weapon. Hyäne could be fired at a rate of one shot per four seconds in Abt’s hands, and with a high-capacity stripper clip he once took down one stag and wounded a doe with four shots. The shotgun’s two barrels could be shot as fast as a sportsman could pull the trigger, but a good thirty seconds or so would have to pass to reload the weapon.

Jäger looked like he enjoyed the offer of the piece of fruit, and smiled benignly as his hand made an unseen motion. But alas, the Hauptmann was not what Gerhardt thought he would be. The officer brought up his riding crop and swiftly brought it down on the knife, the sound of leather on metal resounding throughout the woods. The slice of apple hopped up in the air before landing with a plop on the dead leaves below, discarded by human arrogance and becoming a treat for some small woodland animal. The riding crop had also snapped off of Abt’s index finger and thumb, sending an unpleasant ripple of pain up his arm and into his brain. He didn’t allow the officer to have the pleasure to see Gerhardt drop the knife, and his only reaction to the sharp blow was the almost imperceptible wince on the Leutnant’s fresh and moderately handsome face.

Swallowing the notion to stab the hunting knife into the Hauptmann’s stomach Gerhardt returned the Finnish blade into the leather sheath sewn to the inside of his saddlebag and looked back at the other officer to find his cold steel eyes boring into his own bright, normally cheery robin’s egg eyes. "Sehe ich wie ein verdammtes Pferd zu Ihnen aus, Leutnant?" Jäger hissed obnoxiously at Gerhardt, who wrinkled his small nose in a slight notion of disgust. Does this officer have no manners? Abt asked himself, looking at the piece of filth riding upon a horse. “Natürlich nicht, Herr Jäger, bot ich Ihnen ein freundliches Vergnügen einfach an. Ich habe Käse in meiner Sattel-Tasche auch, wenn Sie das bevorzugen würden.” Gerhardt said half-jokingly, raising his blond eyebrows at the end of his statement. [Of course not, Herr Jäger, I was simply offering you a friendly treat. I have cheese in my saddle bag too, if you would prefer that.]

After a moment of riding on, Gerhardt, apparently absorbed in studying the apple in his hand, spoke up again. “Und andererseits verletzt die Beleidigung, ein Pferd zu sein, die Ankunft aus mir kaum. Ich glaube diese Tiere höher als einige Menschen, Herr Jäger.” Gerhardt said passively, stealing a glance at Rolf during the last sentence. Maybe the Hauptmann was intelligent enough to get that the seemingly apologetic statement was actually a cloaked insult, but Abt doubted it. Gerhardt knew Jäger’s type, everything served to them on a fine platter and money making due for actual skill and experience. But Gerhardt knew how to make this type fall. Knock out their pride, and they are nothing. [ And on the other hand, the insult of being a horse is hardly offending coming from me. I believe these animals higher than some people, Herr Jäger.]

After making his clever comeback Abt took a large bite out of the apple, chewing it politely. His face turned into one of intense thought, as if he was a professional food critic eating a fine dish at a high-class restaurant. “Sie wissen, dieser Apfel ist wirklich ziemlich köstlich. Das würde mit ein wenig Klee-Honig fantastisch sein. Es ist eine Scham, die Sie diese Scheibe gehen lassen, um zu vergeuden. Würde Sie, einige jetzt mögen, oder haben Sie noch keinen Appetit, Herr?” [ You know, this apple is really quite delicious. It would be fantastic with a bit of clover honey. It is a shame that you let that slice go to waste. Would you like some now, or do you still have no appetite, Herr?]

[Rolf Jäger]

The fact that Leutnant Abt only winced at the sudden strike of the riding crop and did not actually drop the knife only worked to make Rolf all the more irritated. Since he had not really socialized with the other members of the hunting party, Rolf had not paid much attention to this particular Leutnant and now that he got a good look at him, he had to wonder how on earth this particular man had managed to tag along when so many others had already given up the game. The Leutnant certainly had been blessed with somewhat agreeable facial features, but just for that very same reason there was something wrong about him. Abt wasn't a very muscular and bulky man and even appeared feminine in a way - certainly something that Rolf abhorred to see in a man, especially in one that was supposed to be representing the Luftwaffe. Although Rolf himself wasn't the biggest and burliest guy around, he was quite averagely built and he made sure to keep in shape, both for the sake of looking good and for being a top-notch pilot. The way this Leutnant acted and carried himself, was a disgrace! Seeing such a feminine and apparently prissy man wear the colours of the Luftwaffe made Rolf feel sick to his gut and he wanted to whip his riding crop over the man's provokingly angelic face, just to wipe that smug look away from his features.

“Natürlich nicht, Herr Jäger, bot ich Ihnen ein freundliches Vergnügen einfach an. Ich habe Käse in meiner Sattel-Tasche auch, wenn Sie das bevorzugen würden,” the Leutnant answered courteously after Rolf had asked the man if he had mistaken the Hauptmann for a horse. Rolf tilted his head to the side as he regarded the Leutnant and sneered at his words. "Sie müssen diese Jagdreise mit einem Picknick, verwechselt haben, Leutnant," the man answered in a low voice, moving the riding crop slowly away and sliding it under his belt so he had both of his hands free. He was sure that if he held on to the riding crop, he just could not prevent himself from using it on the bothersome Leutnant. He tried to calm down the best he could and listened to Abt saying how calling someone - obviously Rolf, in this case - was actually a compliment seeing as how the nature of a man was when compared to that of an animal. The Hauptmann could discern the poorly masked insult and it only made him think lower of the Leutnant. Obviously he figured that just because Rolf treated him poorly, he must have been a completely blind and simple-minded fool and blissfully oblivious to a spot clever word-play. Oh, we would show him wrong and make him pay, indeed he would. The Hauptmann's fingers tightened around the leather of the reins in his other hand and his lips distorted into a very strained and derisive smile. "Oh, Sie brauchen nicht mir auf Pferden oder auf den Qualitäten von einigen Menschen Vorlesungen zu halten, ich kenne sowohl Pferde als auch Leute," the Hauptmann answered and there was more than enough sharpness in his voice to denote that Abt's insult had not gone unnoticed. Rolf knew perfectly well that his behaviour was regarded overly self-important and arrogant by most people, but he knew that most of these people were mere peasants, jealous of his wealth and stature. Coping with other people's jealousy came with all the nice things and Rolf had learned to handle it... although he admitted that sometimes he handled it with more than just a touch of malice, but that was just part of the fun, now wasn't it?

The Leutnant, obviously thinking that his witty comeback had succeeded in dampening Rolf's spirits, was now chewing on the remaining piece of apple, obviously enjoying it's taste greatly. He started commenting on the taste of the apple, saying how it would taste better with honey and acting as if the fruit was the most wondrous thing he had ever tasted in his entire life and Rolf was missing out on the experience. What kind of man would join others on a hunting trip and then waste his time commending apples, honey and cheese? A very disapproving look took over the Hauptmann's features and he raised up his chin as he regarded the other man. "Oh, ich sehe. Sie haben mehr Interesse an Ihren Kochvergnügen als in der wirklichen Jagd, wie kurios," Rolf raised his eyebrows, pronouncing each word in an overly exaggerated manner, as if he was suddenly accompanied by royalty. "Vielleicht sollten Sie in der Küche stattdessen geblieben sein. Mit den anderen Frauen," Rolf's teeth pressed together in a spiteful sneer and the words came out in an almost low and guttural growl.

As the Hauptmann was talking, his horse was getting slightly agitated, sensing the irritation of it's rider - the large, dark-brown gelding snorted, whipping his head up and down nervously. Rolf did not even try to calm down the horse and instead he let the gelding side-step and dance around, the horse snorting and chewing on his bit as he did so. Rolf felt very vengeful suddenly and he gave the reins a small tug, putting his weight slightly on the other side, so that König danced closer to the Leutnant's horse. As the horses nearly bumped into each other, Rolf let his other boot slip from the stirrup and he moved his feet back slightly, bringing the toe of his boot into a sharp, forceful contact with the Leutnant's shin. Quite immediately after this, Rolf tugged at the reins of his mount and forced the horse to sidestep away from the Leutnant. "König, beruhige dich jetzt. Husch husch, was ist denn schon wieder los?" Rolf had already slipped his foot back into the stirrup and he leaned down to caress the horse's neck as he pretended to calm down the animal, talking in a low and steady voice. At the same his steel-grey eyes moved to the side to regard the Leutnant and the Hauptmann could not hide his devious smirk.


Translations:

"Sie müssen diese Jagdreise mit einem Picknick, verwechselt haben, Leutnant."
"You must have mistaken this hunting trip for a picnic, Leutnant."

"Oh, Sie brauchen nicht mir auf Pferden oder auf den Qualitäten von einigen Menschen Vorlesungen zu halten, ich kenne sowohl Pferde als auch Leute."
"Oh, you need not lecture me on horses or on the qualities of some people, I know both horses and people quite well."

"Oh, ich sehe. Sie haben mehr Interesse an Ihren Kochvergnügen als in der wirklichen Jagd, wie kurios."
"Oh, I see. You have more interest in your culinary pleasures than in the actual hunt, how quaint."

"Vielleicht sollten Sie in der Küche stattdessen geblieben sein. Mit den anderen Frauen."
"Maybe you should have stayed in the kitchen instead. With the other women."

"König, beruhige dich jetzt. Husch husch, was ist denn schon wieder los?"
"König, calm down now. Come on now, what's the matter?"

[Heiko Alkema]

Moderation[/b]

Rolf Jaeger[/i] - 5CP

Gerhardt Abt[/i] - 5CP
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