Walking on the cracked cobbled path through the village, the stench of shit coating my nose from the open cesspit just outside the village. Listening to the chatter of the humans as I pass by, hearing them with a hushed whisper. They forget we are not them and can hear better than they can. They could at least pretend to like others, saying we gave them refuge centuries ago, yet they still trying to push further into our territory. I wonder if Father has received the letter. It’s a shame the others are not here.
Reaching an old wooden house damaged by time, with a freshly lacquered large oak door adorned with symbols of their god, two ears of wheat between them, and an oak tree growing between them, I knock on the door with a loud bang. As I knock, I can hear a man and woman talking as they get up, shuffling towards the entrance.
As the door creeks open, an old, withered man's voice speaks out, “Who is it, what do you want?”
Sighing, I reply, “It’s Orvar; I’m here to remind your wife to set off shortly; Olwen will soon bear the child.”
The man pinching his nose, gruffed out, “Oh, it's you. Have you brought the money?”
Pulling out a large silver coin with the symbol of a Lilly pressed onto both sides, I shove it into the man’s boney, wrinkly hand “Your wife's services are not worth this, so I expect her arrival sooner.” To charge the amount most only make a year, while most women do this for free, is criminal.
“She will be there at noon.” He quickly spat as he slams the door shut.
Standing there with the thick wooden door in my face, I quickly turn away. As I reach the end of their garden, I can still hear the two old weasels talk inside. “That beast actually paid a silver we need not worry for the year, my dear”
After asking around for some extra meat, I approached the edge of the village, where empty houses lay dormant. I can hear people going about their daily duties, some snickering as I walked past, kids playing in the distance, and men training. The sooner winter is over, the sooner we leave this place.
…
Pacing outside, the Crumbling shack of a house covered in rot. It has been a long few months. Even with the best preparations, winter is hard, but we just do not have enough time; we are underprepared, and there was no time to fix and suddenly prepare for winter in less than a month. is not enough time we have barely any food, hardly enough wood, it does not help that I cannot hunt enough prey as most are already hibernating or have migrated, even the rivers are baren of fish now.
Looking down at myself, I look at my outer coat, a deep ocean-blue silk coat embroidered with white blue gold. Gods, I hate this… its always the same wondering around outside, oblivious of the battle my Olwin faces. This won’t do; we hadn’t even done the ritual of Bearing; I could at least do a ritual of protection. Tis birth will be difficult with all the signs shown over the months and with no proper help but only some arrogant old human woman half my age.
That harlot knows nothing about the world and thinks she knows best. What could she know? She doesn’t even know of the sleeping god. Instead believing that some trifling life god is the strongest of them, that low-class god like that means much. She is not even a priestess at that. No, this won’t do; I must do the ritual at least.
Knocking on the old oak door, I shouting through, “OLWEN! I will be back!” Olwen reply with a growl of affirmation. Looking up to the sky and at the moon. Luckily, tonight is a good night for a ritual, the moon shines full, as well as the solstice of the night. I may not have many kids, but I should have enough.
Looking around towards the deep woods while listening to the sounds of the frozen nights. There is a lot of life in the area as well, I have protected a lot of different people over the years… this might work.
As I leave the area of our rickety shed of a house, I track through the new dry snow, each step taking more effort than the last. Once entering the woods by the path, I trudge along, walking deeper past the lifeless trees. What to hunt? This area is quite low level, and nothing too good is around, and this pup is fierce. Maybe a loka Tiger would have to do.
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Walking deeper towards the fells and the thickets within the dry woods the wind howling through the bare branches of the arctic oak. This place is sheltered form the winds well, I better get ready for the hunt. removing my outer blue coat as well as my inner shirts, with my pants coming off next, carefully placing them folded in a hollow of an old tree protected from the elements, I drop my draws and feel the Icey howl across my bare skin, I stand there tasting the air and seeing the smells. My body starts to twist and jerk, joints cracking, bones splitting, my maw elongates, as fur wraps me in a blanket of warmth, I growl out, “In the name of parenthood I hunt for blood, in the name of Life I shall bring death, in the name of my divine I hunt in your name, for a blessing of protection I shall kill the defenceless.” Once I finished the chant I turn towards the fells and jumped.
BOOM!
The wind howls past as I pounce from tree to tree faster and faster, deeper and deeper into the forest. I keep speeding up until I’m near a tiger’s territory, much deeper within the forest near the hills. As I get close, I slow to crawl and scan the thickets below.
brambles, winter ferns, tall ice grass, a smell of decay and piss, deep gashes on the trees behind, and an overhang in front; I can smell him, he must be a large male, twelve no fourteen years of age, tier 3, probably around level 340, Weak but it will have to do. The branches gently sway, rustling in the wind, the stench of the air too thick to track precisely by smell.
My ears swivel, listening to the sounds of the wind. With a slight stretch, the beast makes a fatal mistake as the grass rustles. Near the brambles and the tall grass just across from the rocky outcrop lies the cat sleeping gently. Without a second thought, I lunge toward him, grabbing its neck within my muzzle before it can even react, and with a loud crunch, its body goes limp.
*Ding* you have defeated Level 338 Loka Tiger; …
Ignoring the message, I wander over towards an ancient tree, with the tiger still within my muzzle. As I stand next to the old tree, growling out “Child many, Lived long, protected lots.”
Placing the carcass on top of the tree's nobbled roots, the blood of the tiger seeps through the roots, dripping onto the ground; I slice my hand and drip my essence on both the tree and the tiger. stabbing my claws into the tiger, ripping out its heart, holding the still pumping heart, willing my mana to instantly incinerate the crimson heart within a turquoise flame. Transforming back as fast as I can, I start to sing and chant, “I beg you for your protection, god of life, fertility and parenthood, I beg for a blessing for new blood begat from me, I offer you death for a life, god of nature and neutrality, I kill for noght and sin in your name so you can bless without sorrow and woe.” As I sing and chant, with each word, mana pours from my skin. My mana draining quickly, and Suddenly with a sickening crash and boom lit up the clear night sky as golden thunder arcs across the stars; closing my eyes, I start to dance around the tree, weaving my feet around the long winding roots, as I carry on singing louder, thunder continually whips around the sky, until a deafening boom and blinding light come directly in front of me. as soon as it does, I stop to open my eyes, the tree crackles with a golden glow, but the corpse of the tiger is no more only leaving an ashen impression upon the roots.
“Thank you for hearing my prayer,” I whisper as I shudder. I have never seen a reaction like that before. My mana was almost drained, when we return, I will have to talk to the elders immediately.
Looking towards the moon, realising the hour. I should hurry. The child will come soon. Turning around, I head for my clothes before returning home with blood still dripping from my mouth and my hands dyed in crimson.
…..
As I get close, I smell a faint scent of copper and iron drifting through the air; I hope I’m not too late. I quickly rush towards the rotting door, bursting through, “My dear, I am back. How are you doing?” I shout in a whispered tone. I look over towards the centre of the room, where I see Olwen with beads of sweat rolling down her face as she takes heavy breaths, tightly holding onto a thick course rope that’s anchored around one of the beams of the shack.
Looking closer towards my mate, I can see the old woman crouched down, looking under Olwen’s thick woollen skirt.
As the elderly woman looked up towards me, her face seems to drain of blood as she stood there staring at me stunned, but before the old woman could say anything, my wife shouts at me, “Orvar, go wash yourself off, you are covered in blood! And put some clothes on!” before I could even move, Olwen through a wooden cup at me to leave. You could at least give me a chance to leave before throwing things.
…
After washing and putting on my clothes, I head back into the room. I’m not going to wait outside any longer, not when there is only one person to help.
Returning to my Olwen to help the old woman out with the birth by melting more water, I can’t help but let my mind wonder, what is taking so long? Even with Olwen being so high level, it should not take this long; with the use of skills to control the power of the contractions, but she keeps saying the pup just is not coming. Looking towards the ice on the hearth, it has already melted; as I carry it back towards the women, the older woman spoke out, “The child is coming; just one more push, and they will be out.”
I quickly rush across the room as Olwen lets out one more grunt. As she did, the old woman, with a worried and disgusted look, held up a small, wet, fluffy pup. As I get to Olwen’s side, supporting her body as she releases her grip from the rope while standing back up, her body slick with sweat. The old woman quickly speaks, “Its a boy.” With a slightly disgusted tone to her voice. The pup quickly lets out a screeching whimper before quickly passing him over to my wife.
As Olwen takes him from the old woman, she holds him close to her chest. As she does, his whimpers quiet down, and he quickly falls to sleep. Looking at the new pup, his fur is dark grey like most pups, but looking closer, his belly fur is a silvery white, with his sides a golden blond. He’s a divine beastman like his parents, and he also has hints of dark greens like Olwen, saying he’s not black, he will most likely get a lot paler as he grows older and loses his puppy fur.
After the old woman helps with the afterbirth, I hold on to Olwen as I help her lay down on the tattered furs sitting next to her. The woman heads for the door. Before leaving, she speaks up, “I shall leave now; I want to rest myself.”
Sitting there looking towards Olwen, gently rub the pup's head. Our mothers will be furious once they find out they missed a birth, let alone that a random old crone was one who helped. Well, nothing can be done now, I have more important things to think about now. I have a perfect name for you pup.
“Your name shall be Askr. I welcome you to the family. I hope you survive the winter,” I whisper gently while rubbing his head.