A thick layer of snow had formed on top of the burrow's entrance, obscuring it from Thomel’s view.

He already knew that would be the case, so he found it after a couple of heavy stomps in the surrounding area.

Clearing away the snow, he withdrew his flare gun and fired it into the opening, expunging the darkness and creating a miniature sun.

He’d almost been hoping that the yeti would be lying in wait at the entrance to its lair. Instead, it looked like he’d have to go inside and flush it out.

After he reloaded the flare gun, he carefully rubbed at his goggles, clearing them of the buildup of frost and regaining the majority of his vision. Then he flipped on his headlamp and bowed his head low, slowly descending into the tunnel.

The entrance tunnel was like a slide, and he had to strain to not go skidding down it. Luckily there were quite a few claw marks he could use as traction to slow down.

Carefully reaching the bottom, he emerged into a small cavern with three tunnels branching out in different directions.

The flare he’d fired earlier was burning iridescently in the corner. He’d have missed the small fourth tunnel it was in front of if not for his Tracking boon guiding his gaze there.

Pulling out one of the energy bar wrappers he’d kept, he shoved it partway into a crack in the floor, marking the exit tunnel as he moved over towards the flare.

It was so small he almost had to crawl into it, but he managed to avoid that by shedding his outer layer of clothing.

Walking back a bit, he grabbed the wrapper and replaced it with his waterproof coat.

Following that, he returned to the tunnel and began to force his way through it.

He’d been told a bit of information about yetis, one important piece being how only individual yetis stored their food remains outside; the rest disposed of it within some trash room they dug out.

It was a mating ritual of sorts, the more bones you had outside the greater of a hunter you were, and so naturally the more likely you were to be able to secure food for a family.

So, all he had to deal with was just one yeti. A yeti that by now must surely know he was coming for it.

The tunnel split into two forks; one leading left, one heading right. The left one reeked of fish, and either the right one had no scent or it was being overpowered by the left tunnel because he couldn’t smell anything that way.

After a moment's hesitation, he chose the right tunnel since that’s where his boon was pointing him.

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His legs were beginning to go numb from the strain of the hunched-over position he had to take to walk here, but he repeated his mantra of just a few more steps.

After just two yards and a sharp corner, his manta proved true.

The tunnel was opening out into a cavern. Carefully holding the shotgun with one hand, he used the other to yank his flare gun out of one of his jacket pockets.

He fired it into the cavern, and immediately a hefty rock slammed into the ground just in front of the tunnel’s opening, followed by a raspy shriek.

One other important bit of information he’d learned of was how the yetis built trap rooms to kill any predators or rival yetis that ransacked their refuge.

Before he had the chance to use the gas grenade and mask he brought, he glimpsed the yeti darting out of the flare's light and into another dark tunnel.

“Dammit.” He muttered; he’d just wanted to make sure the cavern was level and that the gas wouldn’t float away. The two grenades he’d brought had cost him nearly a fifth of the money he made from the wyvern.

Turning around, he scraped his shoulders on the icy walls and retraced his steps. Moving past the awful-smelling tunnel, he made it back to what would count as this yeti’s foyer.

His Tracking boon was tugging him upwards. It’d fled onto the surface. Shaking his head, Thomel hauled himself up the entrance tunnel and carefully poked his head outside.

Snowflakes were all that greeted him. Hauling himself out, he shot a flare onto the ground so he could find his way back to the burrow more easily before setting off to find the fleeing yeti.

He only made it a couple of yards when the yeti’s position changed. Turning around, he prepared to head that way instead ,but then it changed again.

He realised the yeti was circling him moments before it charged out of the heavy snowfall at him.

Bringing his shotgun up, he fired one, then two shots into it.

The slugs slammed into it, blowing open its belly and sending giant clumps of white fur flying into the air, joining the snow.

The sheer force knocked the yeti over, and half a dozen separate crackling sounds rang out as it slammed onto a pile of fish bones.

Letting out a weak roar, it raised its right arm out to the sky, clutching at stars Thomel couldn’t see.

He just reloaded the shotgun and unslung his rifle as well for easy use.

Just as the steam that was pouring off the yetis visible and damaged organs began to decrease in intensity, it roared and leapt up like an acrobatic expert.

It rushed Thomel again and he pulled the trigger twice, discharging another two slug rounds into its stomach, traces of red spraying out of the creature’s back from the impacts.

Thomel had already thrown his shotgun to the side and shouldered his rifle by the time it regained its footing and rushed him again.

He fired into the gaping cavity, destroying already ruptured organs and tearing it apart with a metal hail.

But the distance between them was incredibly finite and, before he had the chance to unload the entirety of his magazine, the yeti lunged at him. Thomel greeted it with the butt of his rifle, knocking it back down to the ground.

As it struggled to get up, he fired the remaining bullets into its bloodied torso. He slowly backed away a couple of feet and reloaded his gun, keeping a close eye on the creature.

Once the Tracking boon switched targets, he picked up his shotgun and briefly considered going back for his coat, but caution won out. He instead placed the discs on the yeti.

Now that it was this heavily damaged he was probably only going to make a third of the profit he could have otherwise made.

He thought he had a smart plan to deal with the scrawny creature; all their important organs, including the majority of their brain, were stored in their torso, which also was the most vulnerable part of their body thanks to it being where most of the fur could be harvested.

All he had to do was just gas one and its whole body could be harvested. Plus he could avoid that Rage boon most of them had.

Instead here he was, cold and with chattering teeth, right next to a rapidly-cooling, gruesome corpse.

Finishing up with the discs, he activated them and reality coiled around him, warping him, and the corpse, back to the facility.