Itzima reluctantly helped Arsanguir prepare for the hunting trip, bombarding him with the same questions over and over again, "I think we can make it through one winter don't you?"
"No, Itzy we can't."
"Do you have to go?"
"Yes, Itzy I do."
"What if we get jobs in the village centre?"
"Itzy neither of us have the skills to get hired, plus no one is hiring. I won't be long Itzima just a few days."
Hearing Arsanguir address her properly, Itzima left the topic alone. Deciding not to send him away empty-handed, she hands him her pendant, a gift from her mother. Held by an onyx chain, the pendant itself was a segmented deep abyssal blue eggshell.
Seeing Itzima's parting gift, Arsanguir left her his own pendant, a segmented white eggshell with iridescent yellow and green hues suspended on an albite chain. Giving Itzima a final wake goodbye, Arsanguir headed out towards the forest at the edge of the village.
Entering the forest was as simple as walking off the path, but getting back was the issue. In order to keep his bearings Arsanguir had his own specific spot from where he would enter the forest only working his way east, to get back home safely.
Arriving at his selected tree, Asanguir climbed up it. Hunting prey was easier when they couldn't see you. Taking advantage of this Arsanguir would hunt his prey from the treetops, dropping onto his hunt, incapacitating and then killing his prey. Near the village, the trees were spread out, foliage littering the forest floor. Going deeper into the forest provided the ideal hunting ground for Arsanguir, large trees up to no less than eight meters tall huddled close together with little to no vegetation on the forest floor, allowing for faster travel and a clearer view of the forest floor.
Making his way through the forest Arsanguir listened, for the snap of a twig, the grunt of prey or even the howls of other predators. As the days passed Arsanguir made it deeper and deeper into the forest resting and travelling in the trees, staying off the ground as much as possible. Traversing the treetops Arsanguir let the green light of the canopy wash over him. Enjoying the murmurous noises of nature; the cacophony of singing birds and the endless chirping of quiet insects.
Sitting in the trees, Arsanguir listens, letting nature take hold of his thoughts. Hearing a snarl, he darts running towards the source of the sound silently amongst the leaves. Below him, he spots a Yahash badger. The badger is large, around two meters long, its dark brown fur shimmering with green leaf patterns giving it the perfect camouflage against and withing the underbrush of the forest. The badger seemed to be stalking something. A small animal, a mouse.
The badger crouched and growled, creeping around the mouse. The badger seemed agitated, unwilling to attack, unwilling to retreat. Taking advantage of the badger's indecision, Arsanguir lunged. Dropping from the trees onto the badger, his knife smashing through its skull, sinking into its brain, Arsanguir had managed to take out the badger in one swift and deadly move.
Dragging his kill up the tree, Arsanguir rested. The badger was nearly two meters long and must have been over 700 kilograms, merely lifting it was almost impossible without the help of kucholel and was considered a feat of strength. After carrying his kill into the canopy, Arsanguir began to gut and skin his prey, harvesting the organs that could be sold and draining the meat of its blood. As he worked Arsanguir let the waste drop to the floor. Finishing up Arsanguir stored the meat and other valuables such as its teeth, claws, heart and fur into his pendant.
He dropped the badger's guts to the floor, shaking his own hands in an attempt to clean his hands before the blood clotted.
Finally resting for a while Arsanguir finally noticed the mouse still on the floor but now it was licking the pool of badger blood that had collected under the tree. Thinking back on his knowledge Arsanguir tried to remember of a mouse that drank blood but his mind came up blank.
By this time Arsanguir had already been away from home for around a week and although he was starting to get homesick after being in a harsh environment for so long he also knew that with one more kill like the badger he killed yesterday and forget making it through the winter. He and Itzima would be able to thrive. Suddenly a thought struck his mind, he had killed the badger yesterday, and he had worked tirelessly from the evening through to most of this morning as well. So...
Why was the mouse still there?
Arsanguir stared at the mouse, his eyes focusing, his mind churning asking question after question. As he pondered the mouse kept eating unbothered. Arsanguir dropped down heavily, still, the mouse ignored him and kept eating. After watching the mouse eat for a few more minutes, he got curious. As he reached his hand out to pick up the mouse, it finally reacted. The mouse jumped out of the way and then lunged at Arsanguir. As the mouse flew through the air it emitted a thick green smoke that formed into the silhouette of a small wolf.
Reacting swiftly, Arsanguir rolled onto his back bringing his knees to his chest. Before kicking out at the creature made of smoke. His feet made contact solid with the creature throwing it back, letting Arsanguir get up and ready his hunting knife.
The green wolf silhouette smoke expanded growing larger and larger, until it towered over Arsanguir. Here the smoke began condensing at its surface, becoming more defined. The wolf's form solidified. Its now powerful frame, incomparable to the mouse it had been a few seconds ago, seemed to pulse with the ebb and flow of the smoke. The creature's presence was imposing, from its sharp alert ears to its muscular body and bushy tail. The wolf appeared to be caught in a crouch its powerful legs ready to lunge at Arsanguir at aany second.
Its eyes took shape, glowing green with cunning intellect, its form shifting once again. The once sharp, angular features of a wolf flowed and contracted. Constricting into a more slender, graceful shape. The powerful bulk of the wolf melted away, replaced by the majestic form of a fox. Its fur is a bright green with darker underbelly and strips across its side.
Arsanguir took a second to marvel at the size and majesty of the fox, now understanding what he was up against. A Behel fox, a trickster beasts that used their power of shapeshifting to lure in prey before ruthlessly ripping them apart before they started eating. Quickly realising that it had deprived the fox of its meal, Arsanguir ran.