The bear continued to struggle in the trap, and it took Ingrid a moment to realize that it wasn't able to get out. Her father had said they had more intelligence and even magic. So, why didn't this one just dig through the earth?
She pulled out a spike and threw it at the Beast. Which bounced off it's fur due to the bad angle. Then, a flare of light and heat burst from the creature setting the area on fire.
She retreated onto another walkway, but still felt the sting so high up. Could it only use the spirits and magic of fire? If so, that would explain why it was stuck, it would just make the earth harder with all the clay.
Suddenly, the Beast stopped struggling, and the light surrounding it began to shrink. Ingrid threw the remaining spikes at it, and each bounced off it's fur and hide. If she had more practice it might have gotten through.
Boar hide was weak in the flanks and neck, but a bear had such small weak points it wasn't worth aiming for them. Axes she could use to great effect, but even her father saw her failing with ranged weapons.
The blue light was condensing into a dense form around the Beast's body. Ingrid hadn't even seen what a Seidr Beast could do. Her father kept her away during his own hunts, except the few boars.
Yet, something warned her against staying around if she couldn't hurt it. She didn't feel safe getting so close to use her axe. That glow was just too intimidating, and all the plans she had weren't for a bear.
---
"Girl, remember to always listen to your instincts," Olaf growled as she tried, and failed, to dodge another thrown rock, "They are the spirits and ancestors giving you guidance."
Today, he had decided to move from the small pebbles to decent rocks. Ingrid had gotten used to the pain of being hit by the smaller ones. So, it was time to increase the challenge and her pain tolerance.
"A Hunt is not something that you underestimate. A Hunt is a matter of living or dying for both the Warrior and the Beast." His words punctuated by stones.
"There is no shame in retreat if the Beast is too strong, there is no shame in hiding to make a kill. Warriors who follow honor in a hunt die." Rapidly tossing three stones, Ingrid fell to the ground in pain.
Bleeding from several cuts and sporting bruises, she twisted on the ground to get back to her feet. In time to dodge the next three rocks aimed for her feet.
"Good, now keep listening to your instincts!" And a rock came flying towards her.
---
She rushed away, her instincts yelling, and ducked a few splinters and even a stone trailing smoke. A roar broke the quiet of her run, and she had a feeling it was coming.
Thoughts of rushing the Beast while it had been trapped rushed through her mind. And, as she reached the exit rope, she slapped herself in the face a couple times. It was no time to be regretting things.
Roooaaarrr!
The sound of the undergrowth snapping was almost drowned out by the rage-filled roars of the Beast. Ingrid's heart beat like a festival drum as she ran towards the last resort.
Never put your back up to a wall. Was a basic rule for even normal hunters, and it was one Ingrid was going to break. Her final redoubt was in a cliff by the sea, and was her last hope.
Bears would stop chasing if you ran far enough, and they weren't particularly hungry. Or if you hadn't gotten too close to their young, or a few other things. But they WOULD stop.
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Beasts were a whole different animal, even if they shared some similarities. A Beast would hunt you until one of you gave up or was dead. It's why the Warriors were respected, and why a Hunt was called such.
---
"Life isn't something you can plan for, girl." Olaf muttered, as she bandaged his arm. She glanced up at him before looking back to the arm. He leaned against the stone backed chair.
"Never bring trouble back to your home." He said, his voice strong again. The blood hiding the crimson sparks jumping from his wounds, "Tomorrow we are going to carve you out a shelter."
Ingrid looked back at him and he coughed into a chuckle.
"Warriors plan every hunt, but when it all goes to Helhiem. We run to a shelter." His good arm gesturing out their window, "Good stone will stop most weaker beasts from getting to you, and weaken their Megin."
Then, he made a thrust with two fingers.
"They never knew what hit them." Grinning he leaned back again.
---
The undergrowth of moss, lichen, leaves, and saplings gave way to patches of gray and black stone. The night air with the fresh smell of the sea shook Ingrid from her memories.
With it's magic the Beast could still get her within the shelter, but there was a small chance that her trap around it would take the beast down. A few drops of chill rain began to fall from the sky as she ran out onto the clifftop.
Her lungs burned from the frantic run and panic. She almost slipped down the slick, rock ledge leading down to the shelter. The clacking of claws on stone told her she only had seconds.
Grabbing the wood post propping the slab of granite up. She flung herself into the tight cover of the room. Then, slashed out with her axe, as a weight crashed into the stone.
Crack
She was pressed hard into the back wall of the shelter, but the granite held against the impact. Blue light cast beams into the space, but no heat followed.
Twisting in place, she squeezed herself into the narrow crack in the side wall. The impact of the Beast had cracked the smoothed stone, and her skin was ripped and torn.
Finally, reaching the scent of rain and sea. She cautiously looked back the way she came, and saw the Beast pinned once again.
The heavy rock had acted like a hammer to the spikes left in it's back and chest. Driving them through it's body, and causing grievous wounds. It whined but even the blue light was flickering like a candle.
Her heart pounded like a call to battle, to fight. She flipped her axe in her hand, and licked her lip. The cold rain helped to focus her mind.
Stepping towards the pinned Beast, she couldn't help but see one of those men. The standing, black axe on a red field dripping red drops emblazoned on his arm. The one with the missing ear who had killed Albert like a rabbit.
Thunk
Her axe fell.
Thunk
Tears ran down her face as her walls and focus broke.
Thunk
They were all gone.
Thunk
They were all gone, and she should have joined them.
Thunk
At least she could have died like a fighter, like a Warrior!
Crack
She could have defied the Chief and maybe her father could have defeated him. Together even.
Crack
The hole inside seemed to darken and pull her in, and then the flames of rage replaced it.
Ting
Her thoughts stopped as the sound and vibration shook her. The head of the bear had been cut off by her axe, and she had hit the stone beneath.
She blinked as the flames became embers again, and her focus returned to the moment. Bright blue sparks floated around the body like fireflies, slowly gathering within the body somewhere.
Suddenly, a blue flash struck her in the head, and pain filled her with golden light. She could feel the Wyrd flowing into her from her kill. The possibilities of Fate crashed into her as the Wyrd continued to gather.
She knew what to do, but the pain in her body made it a struggle. Clinging to the rock face, she made her way clifftop, and collapsed in a ball. Twisting sparks of golden light covering her now.
---
"Every aspect of a Warrior's life is a fight. From the Hunt to the collection of parts and Wyrd." Olaf said as his fingers carved the spikes. Ingrid's didn't look like anything by pointed wood. Her fathers had the look of a weapon.
"Wyrd from a Beast isn't like the Wyrd from eating a meal, or hunting. It's alive and full of experiences." Laughing at the grumpy look on her face, "This is why the method to converting Wyrd into Megin or Seidr is secret." His finger pointed at the rack of similar spikes.
"They just don't have the Will for it."
---
Rallying herself, Ingrid took fast breaths and slammed her fist into her gut. The pain giving brief flashes of lucidity, so she continued to pound a rhythm.
"Ørlǫg þín eru mín." She chanted through gritted teeth, "Ørlǫg þín eru mín." The beat of pain and her fist felt like a sound of war drums.
---
The drums beat a rhythm she had never heard. Like a rapid heartbeat with a harsh beat every three beats. Olaf looked towards the front gate of the town.
"Never forget this sound, fair girl." His eyes like steel instead of the gray sky, "Each Warrior hears this every Hunt." Then he was gone, his axe taken to drink the blood of the foolish.
---
"Ørlǫg þín eru mín!" Before she could repeat it again, the world froze. Waiting for her to make a choice.
"Dia duit, my fair lady." came a voice of ice and blood.