Return the nature to the barren mountains.
The task had it’s risks but not so soon, Hareven thought, as the bear honed in on him rapidly.
Ciliren, her prosthetic smashed, diving off behind a patchwork of the larger trees to wait for orders or hide.
No amount of Druid prowess was going to deter the bear, a thought determined as it began barreling towards Hareven.
The quarrel in it’s side staining fur with blood, but the crossbow brought was tuned for Cili, and made for deer. But it’s attention was off the child.
At least for now.
It lunged, claws ripping through Harevens shoulder as he narrowly made his way out of immediate death, a smaller tree crushed under the weight.
With a quick motion, Hare would pull his coat off and roll himself onto the bears back, wrapping the leather overcoat around its neck and holding for dear life,
the bear thrashing and fighting, slamming Hareven back into more trees and the ground as the Druids waited for his opportunity.
And it came. A pause for rest for the bear led to a sharpened knife dug deep into it’s eye, held firm even moments after it dropped to the ground.
The worst had not passed however, as the mountain rumbled..
Artwork by Thomas Moran
Was it the sound of it’s thrashing, or the roar? Cilirens scream? The reasons came and went, as it mattered not. Violet sap running down Harevens arm, the wound not given a chance to seal as he drug
his coat from out beneath the bear, as he ran towards Ciliren.
They were too far from the shelter, the trees around them hardly grown enough to survive the oncoming avalanche.
And then it came to him.
Ciliren thrown further down the mountain, Hareven would rip out a notebook from within his coat.
A knife into the bark, runes laid upon runes, with maddened speed.
And a knife to pry his wound open more, the mans bizarre ichor laid onto the runes.
The mountain side would explode in a flurry of heat and steam, the avalanche hitting the radius of the strange phenomenon, but this would hold.
Snow melting and contributing to the steam for several minutes, until it began to cool.
Trees scorched by the steam, exposed dirt, rocks, and moss now revealed from under the snow.
Hareven himself, burned and missing the faux skin that concealed his form, crumpled on the ground as the wounds sealed up.
Staring at what had been done.
He was one of them now.