Watching Urd leave, Bhal felt a tinge of melancholy twist her heart. She loved her only grandson dearly and would have liked to always keep him close to her. However, she knew it would be wrong to stop him from going. He would hate her for it.
Turning back to return to her cave, the shaman felt sadness take over her. She knew about the bullying. Of course she knew. However, there was not much she could do. As the tribe's only shaman, she had to stay distant from everyone. Besides, the boy would have been angry at her if he found out she had tried to help him. He was so wilful sometimes and could not let go of his pride.
When Bhal arrived at the cave, she walked straight to a large bird skull hanging on the wall. Behind it was a secret compartment, in which lay two small statues. One was of a large and rough looking otsone. The other depicted a graceful white figure clearly that of a female.
Looking at them, Bhal felt tears rising to her eyes. Her daughter would have been very sad to see how her son was treated. She wouldn't have just sat idly; she would have done something about his treatment. Even if it had meant going against the rules of the clan.
Just now, Bhal decided to do something to help the boy. If not for him, then to honour the memory of the dead.
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Silenced reigned over the still forest. The ongoing snowstorm suppressed all sound, and made the day look like dusk. It had been snowing for a while now. The mountain range of The Paw blocked all wind. When clouds or storms came, they would come to stay.
It was the sixth day of continuous snowfall which had coincidentally started at the same time as Urd's trial. Currently he was sitting on a low tree branch, just 20m above the ground.
Away from the hustle and bustle of the tribe, he had had a lot of time to think. Mostly he had just fantasized about returning with a true dragon and showing all of the others he was not a waste of space, though he knew it was impossible. After all, true dragons were in a whole different class from all other draconids.
Due to his inability to conjure, many had treated him like a simpleton or the tribe's pet. His different coloured eyes and fur didn't help one bit. Many, like Ebjenn, liked to pick on him and some sicced jobs on him when they felt they didn't like to do them.
Furious, he swung at the tree he was sitting on. Feeling almost no resistance, his sharp claws sliced at the bark, leaving deep gashes. He had always been strong. He was actually as strong as some of the weaker braves, which made the insults all the more aggravating.
Resin started pouring out of the tree, staining his claws. Absent-mindedly Urd wiped his claws on his fur before realising the only thing it would achieve was staining his coat. Now even more furious he was about to attack the tree again when he heard a sound.
His concentration returning in full, Urd froze. When there was this much snow falling, ambient sounds were muffled completely. Meaning, if he had indeed heard correctly, his prey had arrived.
He had spent the past few days tracking this prey. Because the trials were held in an area of the forest specifically kept untouched, this was made easier and harder at the same time. There was more prey here, but at the same time he did not know the places where they were hiding in.
The same sound came again from the white void. It was hard to pinpoint the sound, but he was sure it was coming toward him. Then he saw it. From the expanse of nothing below him, emerged a big figure.
It was an ember stag. A huge deer type creature with a fearsome reputation; herds of them could burn down entire forests. He had seen braves hunting them when he was little. When threatened, the stags would expel bright flames from their antlers. During one of her many lessons, Bhal had explained how they created the fire; by ruminating on a special weed. But Urd didn't care about that.
He had seen the damage those flames would deal if the stag managed to poke its antlers inside the hunter before burning them. It was not pretty. Avoiding a similar fate would be priority number one. What made the beast even more fearsome was the fact they travelled in herds. When fighting an ember stag, you could be certain three more were charging at you behind your back. Urd knew this and had prepared accordingly. Stalking a herd, he had waited for a dominance battle. In these violent clashes, the loser would usually be expelled from the herd or die.
This particular stag was almost 3m at the withers and had an impressive set of antlers. It was hard to see how it could lose with such weaponry. It was, however, clearly the loser.
A trail of crimson blood contrasted against the pure snow tracing the stag's hoofprints. It was breathing heavily and snorting every once in a while, steam rising from its mouth. Stuck in its side was a long, bloodied spike heaving up and down along with its breathing. A tip of the opponent's antler had shattered off earlier.
Urd surveyed his surroundings, searching for predators or other members of the herd. Among the large trees and dry shrubbery, there were no signs of life other than the ember stag.
Urd readied himself to pounce on the stag. However, the thick layer of snow covering the tree branch was treacherous. The densely packed snow supported itself, so in some places it was partially hanging off the branch.
When Urd tried to jump, his legs pierced through the snow, breaking its tension and dropping him down from the tree. It all happened in an instant. He did not even realise what had happened until he felt the air escape his lungs, replaced by intense pain from the impact. At the same moment, a loud bellow from right next to his ear startled him.
His instincts kicked in. He rolled away and pushed himself upright gazing at the deer. He had fallen straight on top of it. It was now standing up with wobbly legs, and he could see tufts of white hair stuck to its charred antlers.
Urd did a quick mental check. Nothing seemed to be broken and the pain was fading away. He thought he had gotten lucky, until a stream of dark red blood flowed down his forehead, blocking sight from his left eye. Shit. It had gotten him on the head.
The stag was now staring at him, hatred evident in its eyes. Even if it succumbed to its wounds, it would be taking him down with it.
An orange light lit in the tips of its antlers as it lowered its head. Then it snorted menacingly, a scorching burst of fire erupting from its antlers, before charging at Urd.
Alarmed he tried to roll away, just barely managing to get from the beast's way. It refused to give him any time to catch his bearings. Its efforts raised a wicked smile on Urd's face. The stag's struggle was pointless. It had never had a single hope of survival.
His head finally in the fight, Urd waited for the stag to charge again. The large beast running at full speed was truly a fear inducing sight. Gazing at the blaze of fire spraying from its antlers, he hesitated for a second, before running straight at it.
Just as the stag was about to ram into him, he jumped to the side, digging his claws into the tree, pouncing from it straight back. Not letting the stag go, Urd crashed violently into it, gouging its side with his long claws and knocking it over.
The stag was still trying to cling onto life, furiously struggling under Urds weight. Blood droplets flew from its wounds, creating flower patterns on the still falling snow.
The fight was over just as fast as it began. Wishing to spare the creature from unnecessary pain, Urd bit down on the creature, sinking his fangs into its head and crushing its skull.
Finally allowing himself to relax, Urd grunted heavily. The adrenaline faded, leaving only pain in its place. He felt the blood still gushing from his head. Calmly he reached down grabbing a handful of soft snow before pressing it against the wound. Pain radiated from the wound.
Urd decided, that the blow couldn't have been too bad. Had it pierced his skull he would've died instantly. Blood loss was an issue, but the cold of the snow would stem the blood flow. It was the only option since if the wound was serious, he would die from blood loss before reaching the tribe.
Now he turned to face the stag again. Its body lay in the snow, brutally mangled. A minuscule pillar of black smoke rose from the corpse's orifices, marking the once fierce flames now extinguished along with its life. Silence reigned again, the bloodied snow blanket still telling the signs of a battle already over. With
The falling snow was now starting to slowly cover the entrails and brain matter strewn about, eventually erasing all signs that anything had even happened. Still, the scene was ugly now, but the condition of this corpse was not important. He didn't wish to present it as the trophy. It was only bait, and night was falling fast.