The pack pressed on, ever forward. Once we exited the den, I switched my vision and noted the skies beginning to burn with the colors of the sunset. Remembering my recent frustration, I kept my eyes peeled and didn’t change my perception back to the wider thermal vision.
“Brutus!”
He stepped forward, immediately answering my summons. “Where?” I couldn’t bring myself to unclench my jaw long enough to speak in a full sentence. Brutus, following my own brusque manner, simply pointed, and immediately we set off in that direction as I continued to speak.
“How long?”
He flicked his tail, unsure. “Not long. First hunt.” Suns burn me, of course. I forgot Brutus was stupid. He wouldn’t pay attention to things like how far away something was or how long it had taken to get somewhere.
“Foire!”
“Going now, Alpha.” I hadn’t needed to give a single command, and then Foire was trotting ahead and beginning to scale a large burlraiz. I didn’t want to, but I forced myself to hold as calmly as I could. Around me, I could feel the influence my mentality had on my pack. None except Sybil were able to hold still, bouncing in place and barely containing snarls. I knew the hunt would go better if I could calm myself a little, I felt the influence of [Pack Tactics] whispering as much in my ear. Even so, I desperately wanted to move, to do something. I kept my fingers pressed together, my scales locked in place and ready for combat.
Surprisingly quickly, Foire descended from the tree and jumped down before me.
“They’re close. At least twenty of them. They’re setting up an ambush about a mile away in that–” he pointed, “direction. Seven are in the open, the rest are hidden.”
“Then we know where we’re going.” The rational side of my brain, racing under the influence of [Pack Tactics], realized that whatever these wolfstags were, they probably weren’t voltaic. If they were, then Brutus and Took would have sustained burns. If they were voltaic, then they were exceptionally weak, and wouldn’t have any magic to speak of. That was good, and since we outnumbered them about 2:1, I could afford to hold some back until their “trap” was sprung, then strike them when they thought they had the advantage.
“Percral.”
He stepped forward, bouncing in place. “Yes, Alpha?”
“Take twenty of the pack that will follow you and Foire. Sneak around the wolves and, after they are all engaged, surround them.”
Percral’s eyes widened as he understood the assignment I’d given him, then, with a slight tremor to his voice, he asked, “Alpha… you want me to lead?”
“That’s what I said. Take those you trust and go.” Percral stepped off and began to pick some of the keelish to follow him, among them Treel, Ilne, and Katre. As he did so, I turned back to Foire, “Which direction are they?” He pointed and I flared my frills in acknowledgement. “We’ll go slow, so get there and surround them as quickly as you can.” I felt my jaws lock up as I grimaced more than I grinned. “We won’t let a single one of them escape.”
Stolen story; please report.
Foire flared his own frills in acknowledgement before murmuring, “We are the long shadow and the blade that reaps.” He thumped his chest and turned before joining with the group of keelish marching off to complete our own ambush.
I rolled my shoulders and stretched my back, a series of pops fighting to relieve the tension that had built to a massive crescendo inside me. They didn’t reduce the tension and bubbling fire within me, just serving to limber me up.
“Vefir, stay back, ready to treat anyone who needs it. Keep yourself safe, and only use whatever magic you have when absolutely necessary, tend to wounds without magic if possible. If any of you are wounded seriously, trust the rest of us enough to fall back. Don’t die.”
I could see the keelish understanding my commands, and I nodded before raising my right arm where my blood flowed out in a small trickle. “Victory!”
“VICTORY BY FANG AND BLOOD!” came the echo and with that I turned and began to lead my pack into the trap.
The path was easy enough to traverse, and knowing what was coming took the anxiety out of our approach. Every one of the keelish with me stepped with purpose and knowing that we could be ambushed differently from how we’d expected. Sybil herself looked quite nervous and continuously looked back and forth on the alert. The hunters, accustomed to the nerves and adrenaline that accompanied the hunt, strode onward with purpose, and I led us all forward.
In a small clearing before us, a group of seven wolfstags acted busy. If I hadn’t known, I might have thought they were preparing meat to be taken back to their nest, but I could tell from how they perked their ears up at our approach that they’d known we were coming. Maybe by scent, given the direction of the winds, but regardless, our approach wasn’t a surprise.
I didn’t care. With a low command, I led half of the pack running into battle and as we crashed through the brush into the clearing, the wolfstags all readied themselves and assumed defensive positions. With their antlers, they definitely were Voltaic or Mistral, but I saw no flickers of lightning in their fur or antler clusters, so I figured I was correct in my assumption of their weakness. Regardless of their magical capabilities though, these were fully grown wolfstags, at least four feet tall each at the shoulder, with powerful muscles filling their bodies. Each was larger than the regular keelish that followed me, and they were prepared to fight to the death.
I couldn’t lose myself in these thoughts any longer, and the ranks of keelish smashed into the waiting line of wolfstags. The nearest wolfstag dodged to the side from Brutus as he charged and landed in front of me. With a roar, I grabbed two of its antlers and smashed its face down into the dirt as I activated [Bloodlust] with a quick thought.
The shattering of the wolfstag’s fangs against each other was music to my ears and I lifted the stunned wolfstag’s head up. I couldn’t reach any of its vitals with the thick cluster of antlers in my way, so once the wolf’s face, with jaws dazedly snapping at me, passed my own, I lunged forward and sunk my own fangs deep into its throat. The intoxicating taste and smell of blood filled my nostrils and throat as I ripped the entirety of the wolf’s throat from its neck.
A spray of blood coated my face and arms as I heaved the corpse to my side and battered it against another, larger wolfstag that was holding back three of my keelish. With my eyes covered with gore, I shifted my perception back to my thermal vision, just in time. A single moment before I could begin to set into my next prey, I saw the ambush spring.
Twenty wolfstags rushed out of the nearby brush and began to set on the flanks of my force. Nievtala guide us to victory, this was more than I’d anticipated facing.