In the deathly still forest, where leaves fell peacefully, carried by the gentle wind, and the land bathed in the warm, luminous light of the sun, the young, small boar ran with all its might, rushing to end the life of the white-haired boy.
However, before it could strike, the boy dashed forward as well. Both of them leapt at the same moment, but the boy managed to twist his body in time and avoided the fatal blow.
This boy was none other than Zalarys, who, despite his brother's insistence that he stay close, had still sneaked off alone to taste first blood.
Hmm... That didn't work. He thought with an expressionless face, eyeing the boar as it snorted, his hands tightening around the handmade wooden spear, its tip sharpened to a point with his hunting knife.
Smiling faintly, he began walking in circles as the boar prepared for its next charge, hooves grinding the dirt and eyes burning with feral intensity.
Gripping the spear tightly, Zalarys fixed his gaze on the beast. The moment it lunged at him again, he went after the kill too, a vicious smile splitting his face.
Holding his breath, he watched the boar close the distance and moved at the last second, planting the spear into the dirt to stop himself dead, rooting in place like a stoic tree. His leg muscles tensed, his boots found purchase, and he launched himself forward like a arrow, sliding beneath the charging beast on the wet grass, his spear raised.
And the moment the sharpened tip touched flesh, Zalarys, for the first time, tasted blood.
The spear pierced through the boar's belly and the bloodthirsty beast let out a tortured scream and scarlet rivulets rained down onto Zalarys's upturned face, bathing him in red, until he shoved hard and yanked the spear free, smashing the animal against the ground.
Zalarys dragged himself upright, licked his lips and wiped blood from his face, staring down at the boar with an expression too complex, yet at the same time too childish for a boy his age.
"Weak..." He muttered to himself, disappointment flashing in his mismatched eyes. "It's too weak and too predictable."
Cursing under his breath, he spat with venom, not even bothering to sound his horn and announce the kill. Instead he grabbed his bag and walked away, kicking a stone along the path out of sheer frustration.
Just a boar? That's embarrassing. Isn't there anything more dangerous in this godsforsaken forest? He grimaced, vanishing into the wood without looking back.
As for the boar, let the other beasts have it. Or let it rot there, filled with worms and flies. For now, there was nothing useful about its corpse.
The deeper he moved into the Kingswood, the quieter the forest became. Then he stopped, blinking, and looked down at what he had just stepped in.
Just my luck, last thing I definitely needed was stepping on shit, haaaaa... He sighed and wiped his boots on the wet grass, deciding to move to the river.
However, as he took the first step forward, he paused, completely freezing in place like a monolith. Even his annoyed expression turned thoughtful and complicated.
Turning around quickly, he crouched and pressed two fingers into the crap left behind by the animal.
Wait… What the hell? Is this for real? The shape, the color, the warmth…
He laughed, his gloominess fading away and leaving only excitement behind, like dawn after a long, chilling night.
It's real… The shape, the quantity, the fish bones inside… The beast was here, based on its freshness, around an hour ago.
He grinned, wiping his shit-covered hand on the grass, then stood up with an urgent look, feeling so much elation and ecstasy that his blood began to boil with anticipation. It felt just like before, when he first drank wolfsbane.
"Holy shit… It's a fucking bear." he said to himself, licking his lips with a greedy smile. "Looks like I have to change my plans…"
However, he followed his original plan first. He found a nearby pond and washed himself so as not to attract beasts with the smell of blood, filled his flask with fresh water, and then returned to the boar's carcass.
Looks like you aren't as useless as I thought. I'm sorry, boar. But you have to forgive me, since I'm giving you a glorious purpose. he thought, dragging the corpse to his camp.
After reaching it, he dropped the carcass and looked at the small, young trees nearby. Taking out his axe, he began cutting them down.
I need more spears. I can't let my guard down. An unprepared hunter is a dead hunter. He exhaled, unsheathing his hunting knife and sharpening their tips into crude spears.
And now the last touch…
He took bottles from his bag, uncorked them, and coated the spear points with the dark liquid inside. Inhaling the stench of it, he nodded with satisfaction and set the spears aside.
No… Spears alone can't do much. I have to consider that the bear might not fall for it.
In other words, I need to prepare for the worst and have backup plans.
He groaned, running a hand through his hair, then grabbed his quiver. Taking out the arrows, he dipped each iron tip into a bottle, making sure they were all coated with the liquid before putting them back in place.
As for the last part, he strung the bow, threading the string and bending the limbs until the tension felt right beneath his fingers.
Hmm… I can't do any more than this. I don't have the tools to create more elaborate traps.
He sighed, looking at the last bottle in his hand, his eyes narrowing in thought. After a moment, he decided to put it back in the bag as well.
Better safe than sorry...
Moving slowly and carefully while dragging the spears, Zalarys began thinking about his plan, a thoughtful look on his face, a stick between his lips like the pipe he had seen Corlys smoking.
If it's really a bear, it needs water. There's no way it chose a den where there is no source of water nearby. That means it's in the north, near Blackwater Bay. Of course, there's no guarantee it will be there, since in the south there is the Wendwater River, and fresh water would be more desirable. However, the fish bones I found in its shit were codfish. And that fish doesn't appear in the Wendwater River, but in Blackwater Bay.
That means the den is north, where the forest meets the coast near the Spears of the Merling King. he mused to himself, dragging the spears as he walked. His small body couldn't handle the weight well, so he grew tired easily despite being trained from a young age, which made the young prince a little irritated. He wanted to grow up quickly so his hunt would go more efficiently, not yet understanding how precious time truly was.
He bit his nail, his eyes lowered as he thought about his prey. Bears are too dangerous. I'm not delusional enough to think that I can kill one alone in the open like I slayed the boar. Master told me that bears are hunted in groups, and alone, without the right preparation, facing that beast is as good a choice as suicide. Winning simply isn't possible without finding an alternative.
However… He looked up, flowers were beginning to bloom, the trees had leaves, and while it wasn't as hot as it would be in summer, it wasn't cold either.
It's spring. Hibernation had just ended a few days ago, and the beast was definitely hungry. Which meant it was moving, and a hungry beast is easier to lure out than a well-fed one.
I have a chance to use the boar as bait. But first I need the traps, without them, I'm as good as dead.
As he thought that, Zalarys slowed down, looked at the ground, and noticed large footprints pressed into the wet dirt.
Finally, after almost an hour of walking around. He thought, and followed the footprints with newfound resolve. Wait, I'm retarded, why am I carrying spears when I didn't even know where I should have gone? Fuck...
Sighing, he continued walking, now bitterness twisting his features until he stopped, the smell of salt hitting his face, as well as the wind from the sea, the footprints from here disappeared, tall grass was covering everything so finding them here was a chore. So instead of that, he dropped his spears and turned around.
Grabbing the branch, he pulled himself up, his muscles straining, climbing to the top to gain a better view of the canopy.
However, he didn't need to search for long, a few hundred meters away, standing above the grass field and the tall trees, he saw a cliff, and on that cliff was a dark opening, as well as a few bones laying around.
Well, well, well, look who we have here. he grinned darkly, and instantly climbed down.
But the moment he landed and looked down, he grimaced, almost tearing up as he slumped forward, wanting nothing but to drop like a corpse and just sleep.
This will take hours. he groaned, closing his eyes in resignation, but he quickly shook his head, steeling his resolve, and began digging.
And after five hours, he had around a seventy centimeter tall hole in front of him. Haaaaaaa... Haaaaaaa... Motherfucker, look who's still here, Hehe hahaha, bloody hell, I'm tired.
He inhaled frigid air, resting against the tree with a exhausted look, his nails filled with dirt, as well as his clothes, luckily the ground wasn't too hard so it was considerably easier to dig.
After doing so, he finished making traps, masking them with leaves and tall grass he cut from the grass field.
Now, I have to drag the boar here too. He stuck out his tongue, gulping down water and wiping his mouth, continuing working.
Going back took just half an hour but coming back with the bear took twice that time. He had already wasted hours. The royal hunt would last for only two days. So he had to hurry, not because there wasn't any time left, no, he had one more day, however, it was already the middle of the day. Luckily, the hunt had started early in the morning or it would have already been dark. So he would have needed to abandon the hunt entirely if that was the case, since night is more advantageous for the bear rather than for man.
Gritting his teeth, he pulled up the boar's head, slitting its throat with his hunting knife and filled his empty bottles with its blood. He wasn't too worried about masking his scent too, he was already covered with mud. The only reasonable problem was the blood, but that too was something he could easily fix.
He already knew hiding from a bear by scent alone was close to impossible, but Hihkran had taught him well. He picked a little dust from the ground and threw it into the air. The particles spun back into his face instantly.
Seeing this, Zalarys smiled widely, seeing the wind was coming from the north, blowing from the bear towards him.
He cracked his sore neck, crossing his fingers and stretching, confidence saturating his heart.
His scent wouldn't reach the den. He was sure of it. Had it been the other way around though, with the wind blowing from him towards the bear... Well, the beast would have smelled both him and the blood before he had laid a single trap. As for Zalarys, with no preparations and surprise on the bear's side as well, he would have died without much resistance.
In other words, this was a hunt against the wind.
Preparing the carcass, his bow and arrows, as well as taking out his last bottle from the bag, he nodded to himself and began moving.
"It's time I join the hunt..."