We went at the thing for an hour, until we had separated its hideous body into more...manageable parts. And we had skinned a fair bit of it. I helped Cogar settle in his little sanctuary with his fire and as much of the flesh as we could fit into the space. Then Cogar took a deep breath, steeling himself.

"Please do not watch.“ He said finally.

"Just tell me you can handle it."

"I will be. But the Wyld is strong and unpredictable. I may be able to manage it. I may...suffer for my arrogance. But I see no other way." 

"I do not quite understand how and why you need food in those quantities anyway. So I have no wisdom to share with you." 

"That one is easy to understand. The more body mass you have to work with, the stronger changes you can invoke with Wyldshape Skills. Easy. Bigger Man equals a bigger creatures and warforms. All our Wyldshape Skills are based on natural principles like that and thus do not require Mana. I use Wyldshaping to regrow the arm that has been taken from me. But to create something from nothing is impossible. Mass gets shifted and in my case lost. I do not have a related class or even a specific Skill beyond the basic [Wyldshaping]. I need a lot of energy to create a part of my body. Much more than that nightmare will give me."

"How will the Wyld in those body parts influence your process?"

"I have no way of knowing. Some Wyldlings handle the energies of the Wyld as I wield fire. Those would use the energy to their advantage. Me? I do not know. Maybe it is easier. Maybe I change involuntarily anyway." 

"I will get you more, somehow. Firewood as well. Anything else?" 

He nodded, still looking at the flesh with uncertainty. "I will need wood and more meat." He then looked to me sternly. "Be careful, I know you to underestimate the wilderness, not to speak of the Wyld, but there is a reason the clans to not come to these parts. The creatures are dangerous here."

"You said that. More than once in fact." 

"And I feel the lesson has fallen on deaf ears." 

"Fair enough. That thing was tough." I said pointing to the butchered nightmare. 

"For everything I have ever known, a White Beast is a foe worthy for the mightiest Wyldlings and much worse than that thing. I know our chances may be slim. But there is no need to squander them with poor caution."

"I know what you are doing, Cogar. You do not want to eat that stuff and you are stalling. Get to eating. I get to working. I never make mistakes twice." 

"Well right there is room for improvement. Try not making them in the first place."

I just nodded and left the area, sitting down outside, at the edge of the protecting light of the campfire. I could not find sleep, there were beasts stalking outside, nightmares just like the one we had killed. And there was nothing between me and them, but a flickering circle of light. I forced myself to eat some of the last jerky I had in reserve. If no solution was found, I had to eat one of those things as well. What are the chances, anyway, that I met two groups of creatures that both were weakened by light? Was there a connection between the creatures of the Wyld and the deeps?

Zero folded himself in a bundle beside me, one of his ends laying loosely on my knee, staring in the same general direction of darkness like me.

"What are we doing, Zero?“ I whispered in thought. "We have already lost control, barely a week after we finally obtained our freedom. It feels like we are always trying to catch and ride the wildest waves to not get pulled under.“

Zero was silent, but lifted his head and turned it to me. Then he poked me sternly.

"I know. Stop moping. We are doing the best we can.“ Zero nodded enthusiastically. "Let me save your life sometime, buddy. Will ya?“ I smiled. "I can never repay you if you keep going like that.“

The chain bobbed up and down, then settled on my knee again, satisfied.

Which brought me back to my ponderings. If we were to hunt a beast of much greater dimensions than the abomination we had made into Wyldling food just now, then we were woefully ill-prepared. Hammers, swords, and axes were no weapons of choice against beasts of any kind. Zero would be invaluable, as always, but the prospect of having to go in close against something bigger was terrifying. And useless. We were not allowed to help the actual fighting. But Cogar needed a lot of sharpened sticks and trees.

All I could think of was a large pit with sharpened stakes at the bottom we could lure the beast into. And how would we manage that? Could we manage that? The night went away, while I chased one idea into nothingness after the other. Did I sleep or was I just that deep in thought? Either way, the sun was up.

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After I had my meager breakfast I tried to get the soreness of the night out of my bones by jumping and stretching. There were still faint noises coming from Cogar out of the hut. It sounded like an animal eating and grunting, which I did not want to have anything to do with. So I wandered about the hill, collecting more wood for the fire, collecting bigger and more flexible branches I could weave between the trees of the shelter to get more protection from wind and rain. And that way I worked the morning and afternoon away, improving our shelter, gathering resources, and getting rid of the pile of refuse we had laying out in the sun. I just dumped it all in the river.

It was late afternoon when I carried some of the bloody hides and bones to the river for the fourth time, when the wind picked up and blew in my face, clouds growing dark and heavy, my hair billowing out behind me. I came to the ridge that went down to the water, and I saw it. I immediately dropped to the ground and behind some bushes, drawing in the shadows around me with [Walk the Night Unseen]. I was not sure if that mattered. What mattered was the strong wind coming towards me, carrying my scent away. Just fate being on my side for once. But it carried a scent to me. death and decay and the sharp odor of a predator. 

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

There, at the river, was a beast as large as a barn. His shaggy fur white and grey, but crisscrossed with scars and marks of battle burning red against the white. It was a bear, or closest to a bear, insofar as his frame was huge and bulky, he was lumbering on all four, claws glistening like polished steel, burrowing deep in the mud of the riverbank under the weight of the colossus. But the front pair of his limbs were much longer than the others, and he seemed to have arms but was walking on the knuckles of his fists like an ape might. His head was massive and round, like a bear, but he had a taller neck, a stronger jaw, massive in its own right, and a frightening amount of teeth between those slaps of bone and muscle. The way he huffed about, he did not seem quick or agile, but that was deceiving even for normal animals. I could almost feel the rumble in the air, whenever he breathed and growled even when idle.

I, for my part, had stopped breathing altogether. I was still a distance away, with the wind on my side, but I did not dare to move a muscle. I just watched him, sniffing and pressing his nose on the ground, heaving his massive frame up and down the river.

The refuse! He stuck his nose in the blood, skins, and bones that had been washed ashore on his side of the river, every now and again sticking a bone in his maw to crush it. Every so often he lifted his nose in the air, standing still and looking around, searching for something. Or someone. He was close. Way to close. If the direction of the wind changed, or he somehow continued on and found himself of the other side of our hill, he would smell more blood, more flesh. Even his fated prey. I had to do something.

Something stupid? My muscles did not listen as I told them to run, told them to catch his attention, and run for the hills. That was way too stupid, even for me. They did listen though, as I told them to creep back slowly, to keep down and return to the camp with all haste.

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I heard deep and labored snoring when I returned to the camp. Cogar had finally ended his feast. I had promised not to look, but I had no choice. Careful to not make any more sounds than necessary, I slipped around the entrance.

The hut was a mess. The fire was still burning in the middle, high and happily, but on one side of it was a pile of bones, thoroughly cleaned off, on the other side a pile of flesh as high as my waist. And on his back, gently expanding and shrinking with the breathing, was the distended belly of a man who had just, considering the evidence and the belly, eaten a cow. Just one more freakish Skill in a line of freakish Skills. And not my business. But I did see faint ripples under Cogars Skin, ripples that could not really be explained by his heartbeat or breathing. As if another force was moving in his body, just barely visible. I just hoped to all damn spirits and gods that he knew what he was doing, or I would be doomed alongside him.

I piled as much of that beast flesh on top of a spare shirt as I could, still leaving plenty, and dragged it outside. I did not want to spend much time here, the White Beast might stumble about our scent every minute, but I had a thought so spiteful and vindictive, that it nestled in my brain so persistently I just could not let it go.

I worked fast, using my dagger to sharpen the sturdiest sticks I could find in our stack of firewood. I then bound them together to little crosses with a knot of yarn or two. One more stick across and I had a couple of improvised caltrops, also called crow‘s feet, that our soldiers of Ravenrock had used to slow down charges of infantry and cavalry by injuring their feet. I imagined it would not be pleasant to swallow them, even if they were not forged out of metal.

I made a package of meat, spiced with spikes and pain, that I could easily carry on my back. I took Zero and my weapons, that was just common sense, but I wanted to be quick and fast and left the rest, even my armor, for it would be like paper to those teeth.

I returned to the river and slowed down, crawling from bush to tree and to a bush again, always checking the wind and looking for shadows I could hide inside. I saw the beast, which I had left barely 20 minutes ago, still sniffing around the riverside. I once more checked the direction of the wind. So far the White Beast had shown no amount of heightened intelligence, and had acted like any animal would have. I assumed that it relied heavily on his sense of smell, seeing as he was using it predominantly. These were dangerous assumptions, for I had no way of proving them from afar.

I walked until I could not see him anymore, then let myself down into the freezing water, barely stifling an involuntary gasp. Slowly, ever so slowly, I waded through, holding the meat up over my head. Blood dripping on my face. Now came the truly dangerous part. No amount of stealth would bring me safely over the stretch of open field to the next grouping of trees and a hill that would break the line of sight. It should be good, I had plenty of distance, but what if the beast had wandered over in my direction? I took a deep breath for courage and darted across the grass. The beast was nowhere to be seen, it must be still busy with the spot I left him. My heart was racing, even if nothing had happened. I circled around in a big arc until I finally entered the wind that would carry the scents directly in the direction of the beast. Now, fate, you fickle bitch, be mine for just a second longer!

I was on all fours, dragging myself closer and closer. Until I was a hundred feet out or so, but still behind cover. I prepared the meal then, piling the meat around the caltrops until they disappeared in and under the flesh. I had just two handfuls left, and those I threw carefully in a line toward the beast, in the hope he might catch the scent. I came closer now. Two slabs left to throw. I could see it through the branches. It should be able to smell me, did it not? Too close. I dropped one piece of meat where I stood. Then I threw the other one a dozen feet between us.

Before it even landed I scuttled across the hill behind me and sprinted as fast as I could, head held low, all the way back to the prepared bait. [Improved Speed] and [Improved Agilty] came in clutch the last stretch to a hiding spot behind the bait. I should have time now. Time for the beast to follow the flesh, to eat...time to lose my own scent. I went back around, I should have been out of sight, and soon I would be out of the now treacherous wind. I ran a wide circle.

I could even hear the beast sniffing and moving behind me, even as I sprinted away. It was not chasing prey, it was curiously investigating the meat. And then, after an eternity, I heard a surprised yelp and a roar of anguish and pain, with high pitched screams that pierced the wind and shook me to my core. It had swallowed the caltrops.

Away, far away from our camp, I went. An hour or more I ran, leaving scraps and drops of blood for as long as I still had some. I found the river again on the edge of the marches and jumped straight in. I still did not return, not even in the river. I went underwater, diving out into the muddy marches, even crawling through the mud, where necessary, completely covered in the slick. I went far and beyond any reasonable safety distance to the beast, I would take no chances. That scream had been a promise of violence and rage.

That was when my hands slapped on something hard in the muddy water. Hard, tough, like bark and scales. There was power and movement. And two slitted eyes fixated me with hunger, just peeking over the surface.

"You got to be kidding me!“ I screamed at it, gripping my hammer, while an enormous row of teeth opened up in front of me like a trapdoor.