»» The Hunt: A Dedicant's Task ««

[Criala 728]

»»———— Nevaehlen Forest ————««

 

“I think… That about does it…”

 

The words were mumbled, only for a yelp to echo out among the trees. Rosalia shook her head, a red mark across it from where the trap snapped onto it, instead of sitting the way it was supposed to.

 

“Ouch.” She huffed, golden gaze narrowing at the offending trap.

 

After a few seconds of glaring at it, she started anew, trying to get the trap to cooperate. But the second time wasn’t the charm, because it snapped back onto her hand again, in the exact same spot as before.

 

“Stupid thing.” She grumbled, a faint huff coming out.

 

Yet again, she tried to get the trap set up right, going even slower than the previous attempt. Going slower appeared to do the trick, because she was able to do it that time.

 

“Finally.” She rubbed her hand, wincing a little from the pressure on the reddening spot. “Now to wait…”

 

What was going to be caught in the trap, she didn’t know. Squirrel, rabbit, whatever was small enough to get caught in it.

 

With one last look at the trap, she made herself scarce. Now, it was a waiting game. At first, she was checking rather frequently, only to find nothing in the trap. After nothing being in it the first few times, she realized that maybe she was checking too often, perhaps scaring off whatever may get caught in it. So, after that, she spaced out her checking more.

 

That seemed to do the trick, because after that, she found a rabbit caught in the trap. With a deep breath, she took the rabbit from the trap. Now she had a lure to try to hunt something bigger.

 

»»———— Deeper in the Forest ————««

 

“This should be far enough in.” Rosalia squatted down so she could set up the lure. Thankfully, this came easier than trying to catch the rabbit.

 

With it in place, she hurried away from it, though kept herself hidden close enough to be able to see if anything approached. There was a spear on her back, along with a quiver of arrows and a bow. Clad in light leather, as her regular armor may have made too much noise. Once she was satisfied with where she was, she pulled the bow from her back so it was at the ready.

 

However long she waited, she wasn’t sure. But the sound of bushes rustling reached her ears. A glance to her left showed a mountain lion sniffing at the air, before making its way to the lure.

 

As carefully as she could, she reached back for an arrow from the quiver and lifted her bow. With the shaft of the arrow between her fingers, she slowly lined it up down the edge of the string. She took aim at the mountain lion, hoping to penetrate it right below the shoulder blades, so it’d hit the heart through there. That was her plan at least.

 

The arrow went soaring through the air, straight towards the mountain lion. But her aim ended up off, and the arrow ended up embedded into the dirt beside it.

 

The large feline growled, head snapping up from the rabbit to look around for where the arrow came from.

 

Rosalia stilled, not even lowering her arms for fear of catching its attention. That seemed to work, because the mountain lion let out another growl before picking up the rabbit and running off with it.

 

Rosalia maintained her position for a good few minutes, even as her arms grew tired from being up in the air so long. Better to make sure it wasn’t going to come back. But she finally relaxed, staring at the spot where the rabbit had been.

 

“It took my rabbit.”

 

Her cheeks puffed out, bottom lip jutting out into a pout.

 

“...Now I have to get another one.”

 

Some time later, after getting another rabbit, Rosalia set up another lure. In a different spot, though it was still deep within the forest. She had herself hidden away again, bow out and an arrow already in her hand for a quicker reaction.

 

Loud thunking soon came, signaling something larger than a mountain lion coming. And, within a couple minutes, a bear came in through the trees.

 

Her eyes widened at the sight of the bear, her hold on the arrow almost slackening enough to drop it. This bear was large. And she wasn’t naive enough to figure that she could take on a bear by herself, when she’d never really hunted before. So, she did nothing as the bear scooped up that rabbit, and after eating it, went on its way.

 

Everything was silent, until she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding in.

 

“...That was one big bear.”

 

A shudder went up and down her spine at the thought of trying to hunt that.

 

“Wait. Now I need another rabbit!” She groaned, running a hand down her face.

 

Instead of setting out again that day, since it was starting to get dark out, she went home to try again the next day. When the next morning came, she donned her light leather, spear, quiver and bow. First, she went to capture another rabbit.

 

By now, she was getting used to that part, so it was easy enough to do. Once she had another rabbit, she ventured deeper into the forest again, though not anywhere near where she saw the large bear.

 

The lure was placed, and she tucked herself away in a hiding place. Bow out, and arrow in hand, she patiently and quietly waited for something to show up. Hopefully not another bear. She didn't want to have to capture yet another rabbit.

 

Just when she thought nothing was going to show up, a mountain lion slinked over from the bushes. A vague curiosity of if it was the same one as before crossed her mind, but she quickly focused herself again.

 

She raised the arrow, lining it up with the bow’s string. Taking a moment to make sure her aim was good this time, she soon let the arrow loose.

 

It flew through the air, hitting the mountain lion in the lower back.

 

It roared in pain, and Rosalia tried to be quick to pull another arrow from her quiver. But the mountain lion tore across the forest towards her hiding place, meaning that she had little to no time to act.

 

She managed to get another arrow nocked, but not the time to perfect her aim since her time was limited. She released the string, the arrow shooting off from the bow towards the mountain lion. It was going too fast to jump out of the way, and the arrow embedded itself into its shoulder. Another roar of pain erupted from it as it was slowed down by the hit.

 

As the arrow hit its mark, Rosalia jumped into action. She pulled the spear from her back and pointed the sharp end at the mountain lion. Another growling roar from the animal, its stride right for her still. As she jabbed towards it with the spear, it ducked down and dodged her spear.

 

This knocked her off balance, her free arm immediately going up to protect her face, the other that held the spear holding it up so hopefully it bit onto the shaft of it.

 

Sharp teeth sunk into the spear. Claws slashed at her side, and down her legs, slicing through the light fabric and blood flowing from the wounds..

 

A hiss of pain came from her, but her hand moved from her face and shot towards the sword sheathed at her hip. Continuing to use her staff to keep it from biting her face or chest, she pulled the sword from its sheath.

 

The mountain lion dug deeper into the spear, the wooden shaft splintering and nearly shattering it from the force of its grip. It continued to slash and claw at her upper leg and side, but she kept a tight hold on her spear, doing her best to keep it from detaching from it.

 

With a shaky hand, as she was starting to feel light headed, she shifted the sword, pointing towards the mountain lion’s stomach. In one swift motion, she plunged it upward, piercing through the soft tissue. Blood spurted out, the mountain lion’s movements slowing the deeper she pushed it, until it went limp all together.

 

Once it was limp, she pushed it off of herself, her world beginning to spin. It slowed as the pain eased some, her hands pressing to the wounds down her left side, though the blood still flowed from her upper thigh.

 

“I don’t like hunting.”

[DragonofTaters 470]

Tucked away in a village, a creaky ‘Ame sat brooding. The stem of a pipe clenched between her teeth. Soft wisps of aromatic smoke curled from the bowl. Crimson eyes stared unfocused at dancing flames, and beyond, a distant canopy of trees. “She’d better remember being eaten is forbidden.”