Chapter 22: The hunt
Lysander walked briskly, and yet quietly. There were a couple of things, even young wanderers like him could do. Negating the sound of his own footsteps was one. Making sure he stepped so feather light, that he didn't leave any traces was another. He knew, from his former ranging with Erin, that there was a lake not far from their hut.
His mission was to get an elk, but if he failed, he could just fish in the lake. Erin would not think the fish cute, hopefully. As he neared the lake, his nose twitched. He could smell an animal close by. His hand went to his falchion.
As a wanderer, he could run faster than a normal child. Adding to that, he had regular meals, ever since he moved into the hut. He knew for a fact, that he could race with a sick animal. Then another scent of an animal came to his nose, and he stopped.
There were wolves up ahead. If he had walked even a step forward, the wind would have carried his scent. This was bad. An entire pack was going to make short work of him. Yet, they might have brought down an elk. He couldn't afford to leave meat behind.
Looking around himself, Lysander tried to think about a good trap. Then, he made an account of what he had.
He had plenty of rope, the axe, the falchion, his dagger, and a fire starter. Not that he wanted to use the last one. Unless, he did want to. What were the chances that the wolves won't run away when they saw the smoke? A little demonic illusion, to show the forest burning, would go a long way, towards chasing the wolves away.
The problem was, Lysander was never good at illusions. To most people, they would look wrong. That is why he used scarves and hoods to cover his face, instead of magic. Yet, what choice did he have? If the wolves were this close, then they might come to the hut. Belle was still sleeping. She couldn't tell the wolves to leave.
The wanderer went to the tree to his left, and cleared the snow from its base. Then, he began picking the stones, which were around the tree. Soon, he had a fire pit made, and, with some twigs and grass from around the tree, he got a smoke screen started. Then, he let his magic loose.
The howling of the wolves was scary. He gripped his falchion in one hand, and the dagger in the other. Running feet were soon to be heard, and silence reigned over the forest soon after. He was lucky, that the animals weren't as smart as normal people.
Lysander kept the illusion going, even though it was straining for him. He walked, and saw that there was a big corpse on the other side of the lake.
The wanderer looked left, then right, then up, in the direction he thought the wolves had run. When no howls came, he went to the corpse. It was big, and wooly. A mammoth.
Lysander couldn't believe his luck. A mammoth could feed Erin and he until the end of the winter. No, even after that. He took a hold of his bottomless bag, and then began to use mana, to get it to fit the entire animal inside.
Just as he was closing the bag, he saw something small snarl at him. He looked to the tree, from where the sound had come, only to see a wolf cub. Lysander tilted his head to the side. The wolf cub bared its teeth at him.
If he took it with him, when it grew up, it might lash out on Erin and he. If he left it here, there was no telling, if it would survive. His mind made, and not wanting to go back to Erin with the death of a baby animal on his hands, Lysander neared the cub.
"Hello," he said, as he offered his hand for the animal to sniff. "Did your parents left you behind?"
The cub sniffed his hand, and then licked it. Lysander giggled.
"My family also left me behind. Not my mother, no. She died giving birth to me. It was her family that didn't want me," Lysander said. He wondered if there was a wolf mother, who was going crazy, when she didn't see her pup. And what a pup it was.
It was black, the same shade as Lysander's hair. And even its eyes were golden. He bent, and picked it up.
"I will give you some of the mammoth when we go back. There is this princeling, by the name of Erin, who is going to spoil you rotten," Lysander promised. Erin would be happy, that, not only Lysander not kill, but he also brought them a pet. "I will train you, and you will help me with hunting."
With a smile, Lysander went back in the direction from which he came. When the pup saw the flames, the illusionary ones, Lysander chuckled, and then dispelled the illusion. The pup looked from the trees, to Lysander, and tilted its head in that adorable way, that only puppies can.
Lysander chuckled at that. Maybe, if he was good, then Belle was going to teach him how to communicate with the puppy? As things stood now, the fluff ball was a little on the skinny side. Lysander just hoped that the puppy could eat meat. As the wanderer walked, he saw a snowdrop flower budding through the snow.
"See, friend? Spring is coming," which brought Lysander back to the fact, that their snowmen were going to melt. He passed by the flower, without picking it. For, he knew, that love was adoration and admiration, and not possession.
A part of him tried to reason with him, that the puppy should be returned. Yet, he decided not to listen to that part. Erin would welcome a friend, in their hut. And he would welcome a hunting partner, who won't think their prey adorable.
Chapter 22: The hunt
Lysander walked briskly, and yet quietly. There were a couple of things, even young wanderers like him could do. Negating the sound of his own footsteps was one. Making sure he stepped so feather light, that he didn't leave any traces was another. He knew, from his former ranging with Erin, that there was a lake not far from their hut.
His mission was to get an elk, but if he failed, he could just fish in the lake. Erin would not think the fish cute, hopefully. As he neared the lake, his nose twitched. He could smell an animal close by. His hand went to his falchion.
As a wanderer, he could run faster than a normal child. Adding to that, he had regular meals, ever since he moved into the hut. He knew for a fact, that he could race with a sick animal. Then another scent of an animal came to his nose, and he stopped.
There were wolves up ahead. If he had walked even a step forward, the wind would have carried his scent. This was bad. An entire pack was going to make short work of him. Yet, they might have brought down an elk. He couldn't afford to leave meat behind.
Looking around himself, Lysander tried to think about a good trap. Then, he made an account of what he had.
He had plenty of rope, the axe, the falchion, his dagger, and a fire starter. Not that he wanted to use the last one. Unless, he did want to. What were the chances that the wolves won't run away when they saw the smoke? A little demonic illusion, to show the forest burning, would go a long way, towards chasing the wolves away.
The problem was, Lysander was never good at illusions. To most people, they would look wrong. That is why he used scarves and hoods to cover his face, instead of magic. Yet, what choice did he have? If the wolves were this close, then they might come to the hut. Belle was still sleeping. She couldn't tell the wolves to leave.
The wanderer went to the tree to his left, and cleared the snow from its base. Then, he began picking the stones, which were around the tree. Soon, he had a fire pit made, and, with some twigs and grass from around the tree, he got a smoke screen started. Then, he let his magic loose.
The howling of the wolves was scary. He gripped his falchion in one hand, and the dagger in the other. Running feet were soon to be heard, and silence reigned over the forest soon after. He was lucky, that the animals weren't as smart as normal people.
Lysander kept the illusion going, even though it was straining for him. He walked, and saw that there was a big corpse on the other side of the lake.
The wanderer looked left, then right, then up, in the direction he thought the wolves had run. When no howls came, he went to the corpse. It was big, and wooly. A mammoth.
Lysander couldn't believe his luck. A mammoth could feed Erin and he until the end of the winter. No, even after that. He took a hold of his bottomless bag, and then began to use mana, to get it to fit the entire animal inside.
Just as he was closing the bag, he saw something small snarl at him. He looked to the tree, from where the sound had come, only to see a wolf cub. Lysander tilted his head to the side. The wolf cub bared its teeth at him.
If he took it with him, when it grew up, it might lash out on Erin and he. If he left it here, there was no telling, if it would survive. His mind made, and not wanting to go back to Erin with the death of a baby animal on his hands, Lysander neared the cub.
"Hello," he said, as he offered his hand for the animal to sniff. "Did your parents left you behind?"
The cub sniffed his hand, and then licked it. Lysander giggled.
"My family also left me behind. Not my mother, no. She died giving birth to me. It was her family that didn't want me," Lysander said. He wondered if there was a wolf mother, who was going crazy, when she didn't see her pup. And what a pup it was.
It was black, the same shade as Lysander's hair. And even its eyes were golden. He bent, and picked it up.
"I will give you some of the mammoth when we go back. There is this princeling, by the name of Erin, who is going to spoil you rotten," Lysander promised. Erin would be happy, that, not only Lysander not kill, but he also brought them a pet. "I will train you, and you will help me with hunting."
With a smile, Lysander went back in the direction from which he came. When the pup saw the flames, the illusionary ones, Lysander chuckled, and then dispelled the illusion. The pup looked from the trees, to Lysander, and tilted its head in that adorable way, that only puppies can.
Lysander chuckled at that. Maybe, if he was good, then Belle was going to teach him how to communicate with the puppy? As things stood now, the fluff ball was a little on the skinny side. Lysander just hoped that the puppy could eat meat. As the wanderer walked, he saw a snowdrop flower budding through the snow.
"See, friend? Spring is coming," which brought Lysander back to the fact, that their snowmen were going to melt. He passed by the flower, without picking it. For, he knew, that love was adoration and admiration, and not possession.
A part of him tried to reason with him, that the puppy should be returned. Yet, he decided not to listen to that part. Erin would welcome a friend, in their hut. And he would welcome a hunting partner, who won't think their prey adorable.
