"I'm leaving now. Remember to head to the smokehouse at midday to get the rest of the meat." Grey slightly nudged the sleeping Tear, who merely grunted in response. He chuckled softly, placing the animal skin he was using on top of hers, layering her in a thick cocoon of pelts. Grabbing his bow and quiver, he jogged through the village.
In the dim light before dawn, the primitive village of roughly processed lumber and animal pelts seemed frozen in time, its stillness broken only by the faint crackle of cooling embers. The cold morning air carried the sharp, earthy scent of smoke mingled with the tang of damp wood and frost. As Grey reached the village center, the faint tendrils of smoke from various smokehouses became visible against the frosty backdrop. Keen's smokehouse wasn't far, and soon Grey spotted its rugged stone walls, adorned with delicate icy patterns formed by the morning frost. Thin spirals of smoke lazily curled upward, fading into the pale, pre-dawn sky, as if reluctant to leave the warmth below.
"Keen, you ready?" Grey shouted out.
"Yeah, give me a moment," came a hushed voice from inside.
Grey heard rustling from within and realized he was too early; no one else had arrived yet. Moments later, Keen emerged, his fit figure silhouetted by the glow of the embers inside. His untamed brown hair draped over his shoulders like messy foliage.
"By early I meant dawn Grey, not before," grumbled Keen, his breath visible in the frosty air.
Grey smiled, "We should leave soon, I came early so I could prepare. I don't want anyone else to see."
Keen sighed. "Alright, go inside, but keep quiet. My family's still sleeping. I'll grab my brother."
"What about Root and Fleet? Aren't they coming?" Grey asked, his tone uncertain. They would need as much manpower as they could get, even if they could only find one Hooded horn.
"Keen mimicked Brawl's gruff voice with mockery. "'So many going out would scare the animals away.' As if Brawl's lumbering frame could ever be stealthy." He snorted. "It's just us three. It'll probably take a long time to bring anything back, but we'll manage. I'll be back soon, so hurry up and do your thing."
With a nod, Grey tiptoed into the hut attached to the smokehouse. Warmth enveloped him, the air thick with the scent of animal fats and wood ash tickling Grey's nose. The faint glow of embers reflected off the walls, casting the interior in an orange hue that flickered like a living heartbeat. In the corner, two figures lay under fur blankets on a raised wooden bed—Keen's wife and daughter. Without disturbing them, moving quietly, Grey slipped through the curtain separating the home from the smoke hut and sat down in the warmth.
With an aptitude that came after years of dedicated practice, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting his mind empty. In this serene state, innumerable lights bloomed in his consciousness, shimmering like living constellations in every imaginable hue. Among the colors, a figure of light appeared—a pale red version of himself, featureless but radiant. Surrounding him were countless red specs, like drifting flour in the air. Ignoring them, he moved forward, his form trembling in the real world as beads of sweat formed on his brow.
But at last, here just in front of him existed two deep orange illuminations. His form was flickering, wavering as if about to be extinguished. He focused on the two lights, and with great effort reached out to them. His corporeal body flickered more and more with expended effort. With a roar, he finally reached one with the tip of his middle finger and just before his eyes opened, he got a glimpse of an unnatural, barely perceptible yellow light approaching from behind the two orange shapes.
The world around him was tinged with a red hue, but it was less distracting than his first experiences focusing his ability like this. He had connected with the orange, allowing them to become more vibrant in the real world. He could still see the other shades, but now, they would not stand out so much. Still, the faint memory of yellow light lingered, unsettling him. Before he could dwell much longer his thoughts were interrupted.
"Grey, is that you? Are you okay?"
A gentle voice broke his concentration. Stilra, Keen's young daughter, stepped into the smokehouse quietly. Her dress of stitched animal pelts draped her slender frame. While her short black hair framed a face both fierce and innocent. Despite her tender age, resembling Tear's, she moved through the world with a calm precision and stillness that hinted at her future potential as a tracker.
"Don't worry about it Stilra, I'm fine. Did I wake you? Sorry about that." Grey said, shaking off his unease.
Stilra shook her head gently, "It's okay. Dad actually woke me up, I was just pretending when you came in. Here, I got this for you." She smiled brightly, seeming almost holy with the deep-red glow emanating from her, as she handed him a strip of dried meat. The savory scent of the preserved meat mingled with the lingering warmth of the smokehouse, creating an oddly comforting blend.
"Thanks." Grey accepted it gratefully as she sat beside him, basking in the warmth. "Have you started your training yet? Tear said she's been lonely lately."
Stilra looked down at her feet and sighed, "I wanted to go out, but Mom forced me to stay inside. Dad teaches me to use a bow in the mornings and track mice around the village, and during the day, I have to help in the preserving house. I barely have time to see anyone anymore."
Grey chuckled, "Not everyone gets such a good education you know, you're really lucky. Most kids will only be able to ever do one thing."
"I don't feel so lucky," she muttered. "I just want to see my friends sometime."
"Well you will soon," Grey assured her. "I am going to ask your dad to have Tear train under your mom. You'll be able to see her every day. Since you're already so experienced, could you keep an eye on her?"
She immediately brightened, and even her aura became a shade brighter, "Really! Just ask him when he gets back, he always talks about you to the elder."
Stilra added, "He says you're going to be the best hunter in the village one day. I think so too." She glanced at Grey with a shy smile, her gaze lingering for a moment before looking down.
Grey smiled, "Well let's just hope he agrees, I'll ask him tonight after we come back."
"You should just ask him now, there's no way he won't agree," Stilra mumbled under her breath.
Grey knew Keen was kind enough to hear him out, but he refused to take advantage of that kindness. He wanted to prove to the village—to himself—that he could stand on his own, capable of independence and contributing to their survival. Leaning back against the warm wall, he resolved to approach Keen with dignity, ensuring his request came with purpose and worth.
Before they could continue, Keen entered, his voice cutting through the air. "You ready, Grey?" He paused for a moment, his eyes flicking between Stilra and Grey. His fingers tensed slightly as he reached to ruffle Stilra's hair. Keen's voice carried a cheerfulness as he added, "If you're awake, go to the village center and catch a mouse. You should be able to by now."
"Alright, alright. Quit it already. Bye, Grey!" Stilra grabbed her small bow and arrows before darting off, stealing one last glance at him as she disappeared through the door.
"Always a farewell to you, but not me," grumbled Keen.
Grey smirked and bumped his shoulder. "It's because you're too clingy. Let's go. If Bark is ready, we need to get moving."
He had already heard Grey say it before but still, it sounded ridiculous to him, "Are you sure we can get another two? I have never seen them other than once during the Grand Hunt when I was a kid."
"I am certain I can find them, and even more, they are still in the inner woods. We won't even have to go near the boundary."
"Alright let's go then." Keen resolutely remarked.
The pair met Bark outside and headed to the village gate. The guards nodded as they climbed over the wall, their boots crunching against the snow-covered wood. Dropping into the fresh snow below, the cold stung their faces as they adjusted their fur-lined cloaks against the biting wind. Grabbing two large sleds, they set off into the forest, their breath rising in soft clouds that dispersed into the crisp morning air.
"When will you know where to go?" asked Bark. He knew nothing about Grey's ability other than his ability to remarkably locate anything they were hunting any particular season.
"We need to go further, I can get any scent or tracks from here obviously," Grey responded. Even Keen, who was more familiar with Grey, knew little in truth about his mysterious power. He figured Grey had some remarkably powerful senses which he strengthened through focused meditation. This even tracked as when the day became longer, Grey would lose his isolated focus, and his abilities would wane in effectiveness.
The snowy elm forest was silent, the frost-covered trees standing like sentinels, their limbs bowing under the weight of ice. The faint crunch of snow underfoot and the whisper of wind through the branches were the only sounds as the men moved deeper into the woods. Grey, bow in hand trodden along keeping his eye out for the two trails of light. Bark and Keen carried their bone-tipped spears, their movements purposeful and quiet. The deeper they ventured, the denser the trees grew, their skeletal forms casting long shadows that seemed to stretch endlessly into the wintery gloom.
The cold seemed to bite deeper with each step, the air sharp and filled with the earthy scent of frozen bark and faint traces of old kills. Their breaths came in steady puffs, condensing in the air before vanishing into the stillness. A distant woodpecker's rhythmic tapping echoed faintly, a lone sign of life in the frozen expanse.
"Wait," Grey said, halting. "I have them. Two Hooded Horns, moving together.
Bark grinned. "You lead us to the tracks. Once we're close, Keen and I will take the lead. We'll take them down with one shot each. You finish off any that don't fall."
Grey nodded, guiding them to the tracks. The massive beasts soon came into view in a clearing, their shaggy fur crusted with frost. They pawed at the frozen ground, revealing patches of buried grass. Their singular curved horns glinted faintly in the pale morning light. Steam rose from their massive bodies, catching the dim light and swirling like ghostly tendrils.
The hunters remained utterly still, their figures cloaked in furs that blended seamlessly with the snowy forest. Tension crackled in the air like the faint creak of distant ice. Keen and Bark readied their atlatls, while Grey notched a massive bone-tipped arrow. The tension in the air was palpable, every breath measured. At Keen's signal, they released their weapons.
One Hooded Horn collapsed instantly, a spear jutting from its flank. The other, wounded and bleeding, let out a bellowing roar that reverberated through the clearing. It lowered its head, its single curved horn aimed at the hunters as it charged in a frenzy.
Keen leaped to the side, narrowly avoiding the beast's deadly horn. The ground shook as it tore forward, its hooves digging trenches in the snow. Bark stood firm, his second spear poised and his breath steady despite the beast's immense size. With a well-aimed throw, his weapon struck the creature's shoulder, but it did little to slow its momentum.
The Hooded Horn's frenzied eyes glowed with an animalistic fury, its guttural bellows echoing in the forest like thunder. Snow flew in a cloud around it as it plowed through the brush, shards of ice and dirt scattering in its wake.
"Grey, now!" Keen shouted, his voice sharp with urgency.
Grey's heart pounded in his chest, his fingers trembling as he drew the bowstring back. The world seemed to slow as the beast barreled toward him, its horn gleaming like a blade of death. He released the arrow, the bone tip streaking through the air. The arrow struck true, piercing the creature's throat. Blood sprayed onto the snow, painting the white canvas in crimson streaks.
The Hooded Horn stumbled, its roar turning to a gurgle as it thrashed wildly, collapsing mere feet from Grey. Its body twitched once before finally going still, the steam from its breath mingling with the icy air.
The hunters stood in silence for a moment, their breaths ragged. Keen broke it with a shaky laugh, his hands still gripping his spear tightly. "We... we did it! Damn, that was close."
Bark clapped Grey on the back, his grin wide and triumphant. "Quick thinking. We'll make a hunter out of you yet."
As they hauled the beasts onto the sleds, the air changed. A deep hum vibrated through the forest, resonating with a low, otherworldly tone that seemed to press against their chests. The ground shook violently, knocking loose frost and snow from the trees above. The branches trembled as if recoiling in fear.
A blinding shockwave burst outward from a distant boundary, rippling through the forest like a tidal wave of energy. It distorted the air, leaving a faint shimmer in its wake.
Then came the howl.
It was not a normal wolf's cry, but an earth-shaking, guttural sound that carried raw, ancient power. The trees seemed to bow toward its source, and the sound pierced their ears.
Grey's mind raced as the yellow light from earlier flared vividly in his memory. Its warning now made sense.
"We need to move," Keen said, his voice steady but urgent despite the dread sinking into his chest. "Now."