Past the thick birches in a snow-covered forest, a young man sat patiently in the brush of the slumbering bushes. His breath was slow and focused with only the bare wisp of condensed air escaping his lips. His eyes, a steely silver, concentrated on the thin purple line sleeking across the landscape. At its end, a horned, four-legged creature stood, glancing around before lowering its head to resume eating a small rodent it must have recently killed. The beast’s bristled black fur danced on its back, surely keeping it warm through the stiff wind blowing. A tall mass of flesh covered by a thicket of fur, thick muscles bulging out from its legs, and the singular horn protruding from the top of its cranium, made the animal resemble something of a wooly rhinoceros.

The young man, now sure the beast was preoccupied with the meal under it, slowly extended his arm back into the quiver behind him and knocked an arrow on his bow. His eyes followed the translucent purple line floating in the air, centering on the creature’s chest. He aimed at that spot, drawing the string far behind his body, and set the arrow loose. A whistling sound came from the arrow as it flew through the air at high speed, and before the wooly creature could react, a piercing sound came from its heart. Its eyes widened for but a moment, resistance on its mind, but unfortunately, all the strength had left its large form as it slumped on the ground, cold enveloping the flesh under the thick matted fur, and finally darkness.

The young man exhaled deeply, and great anxiety was released in his breath, with this hunt successful his small family could survive the harsh winter months soon approaching. With relief, he grabbed the small whistle hanging from a leather string around his neck and blew it with great force. A shrill cry pierced the surrounding mountains, and soon the crunching of dried leaves could be heard as quickly approaching figures revealed themselves.

The group of men looked frustrated, being called from the hunt could be a disastrous prospect, but whenever the whistle rang, indicating an emergency, they had to come running in case disaster occurred. The tired look on their faces and red fingertips indicated they had been out in the cold for several hours, probably several had even caught on to some tracks only to be interrupted by the signal. However, although troubled by their potential loss of a meal, they all stopped in their tracks seeing the felled monster of an animal before them. “Gods, Grey, did you kill that Hooded Horn? That’ll be enough food for days!” A muscular bearded man exclaimed as more hunters began to arrive from the forest.

“I wouldn’t have called you had it not been an emergency. Figured this would be better than a couple of rodents, and even if I wanted to, I couldn’t keep this for myself. No way to haul it back. Anyway, I am willing to split it, if you all help dismantling and bringing it to the village.” The young man Grey responded. 

The bearded man looked at Grey and put a contemplative hand on his chin, “Charge, Bark, go back to camp and bring two sleds and rope, be quick, nightfall will come in a couple hours; we need to be quick or we’ll have to leave before getting this all done.” Two men who had straitened when called quickly began sprinting in the direction of smoke plumes rising high above the forest. “Alright Grey, my men and I are willing to help, but I want the head, pelt, and all the bones. Add in most of the body too.” 

Grey’s gaze fell on the man before responding, “I want to keep all the legs. I also need some rope and smaller pelts when we return, and your men will do most of the hauling. The head and rest of the body are yours if you agree to that. As for the bones, I’ll agree if I get permission to use your smoke room. What you say, Keen?” 

Keen thought for a moment, understanding that this was a rare opportunity to make a powerful polearm from the horn of the large beast. Truthfully, he cared little for the bones, and even less for the pelt. Although the body of the creature tasted foul, at the end of the day, food was food. And if he wanted, with his squad of hunters, he could hunt some small tree rodents with his squad for tasty meat. But a Hooded Horn was a rare beast to be this close to the safe area of the Prowling Forest. The value of the resources it offered, primarily the horn could not be understated. “Alright, you have a deal.” Keen did not need to be selfish at this moment, nor did he want to get on Grey’s bad side. Although rare, Grey would create opportunities like this for his squad. According to the village records, Grey would become a member of Keen’s squad upon his coming of age. This would come in one year so as training. he was brought out, but in reality, Grey would always hunt on his own after the first couple weeks, and never take the squad's spoils unless he directly contributed to them. Keen was keenly aware of Grey’s circumstances in the village, more so than most people, but rather than ridicule Grey he kept a cordial attitude with him even allowing him to join his squad to hunt.

“Root, Fleet, let’s start carving now. You better help too Grey. We need to get this done fast.” The other two men who had been sitting while their boss discussed the transaction stood and expertly began to butcher the carcass along with Grey and their leader. 

“Not that I’m complaining, but how did this thing wander so far from the inner region? I’ve only ever seen them when all the squads move together deeper in the woods,” Root asked while slicing a leg off the Hooded Horn. 

This was a question that weighed on all their minds, and although grateful for the bounty they had received, this movement was a sign of something dangerous. “We’ll discuss this with Elder when we return to the village. Worst case we will have to have to move up the grand hunt to cull the dangerous beast from the deep woods. For now, though, let us think only of celebrating back at camp.” They all nodded at Keen’s response and began to smile thinking of the first fresh meal they could have in days, and with Keen’s word of celebration, perhaps even aged fire water made from fruits that was so covetously hidden away by their squad captain.

“I think there may be three or so wandering the area, if I get lucky I’m sure I could bag another one, but we’ll have to convince Brawl to let us go out with him, and knowing his feelings for me, I’m sure he won’t be happy with me taking his’ potential prey’.” Grey sarcastically added, thinking of the lost profits of the possible excursion. By the next Waterday, the paths left behind by the Horns would be all but gone, as if they were never there in the first place.  

“Are you sure you can get one?” Keen asked with a serious look on his face. Grey stared back, although he had implied that he would have to be lucky, he was sure. By following the threads of light that would come off certain creatures, he could track another Hooded Horn if only a day had passed. 

It seemed that Keen was fully aware that his “luck” was more than it seemed, and since he often found rare creatures, this was not a surprise to him. “Yes, I’m sure. If they are in a group, I can find them, and with a good shot, take one out.” 

Keen let out a sharp breath, “I’ll take care of Brawl, make sure you're ready to leave tomorrow… early,” seeing the resolution in his eyes, Grey nodded. Time passed slowly now that the conversation had diminished. Each person solely focused on carefully carving the creature, as any mistake could harm the precious materials, and soon the sound of sleds gliding on the snow could be heard. Bark and Charge assisted in loading the now dissected body onto the sleds, and each man tied a rope around the waist and a sled. 

Bark, and Charge, pulling one with Grey following behind silently, and Fleet, Root, and Keen on the other. “Boss, how are you gonna convince Brawl? There’s no way he won’t go crazy if we bring back a hall like this on an Earthday. He’ll definitely demand us to give up most of it, if not all.” 

Keen considered his answer to Fleet’s complaint before responding, “I’ll give up first rights on the grand hunt this year. With that, even if he gets upset, he won’t say anything in public.” Both Root’s and Fleet’s eyes opened wide, the first right was rotated every grand hunt to each squad, and this time, it was their turn. To say this, was to give up a possible chance at a creature's central organ, a prized treasure that once prepared, could increase the power of a single squad immensely.

“Are you sure you want to give something like that up? This is the first grand hunt in decades, who knows if we’ll even be around to enjoy an opportunity like this again!” exclaimed Root. 

“Quiet down,” a silent growl coming from Keen sealed any further protest, from Root. “A harvest of at least one more hooded horn would benefit the village more than a small rise in our strength, and with us around we might even get two kills.” The group of three contemplated that for a moment. They all had little doubt in their minds about Grey’s forecast of the beast, their experience led them to have great faith in his ability to track. 

“Even still, are you really ok with this? You may lose your ability to compete for the name of Elder if you can’t stand up to Brawl.” Fleet was whispering now, making sure not to alert the other three members dragging the sled a few feet away from them. With the current Elder reaching the latter stage of life, there was no question that he would soon name the next, and tradition held that if one protested the decision, a battle was held, and the winner was named. Brawl suited his name-sake earned at his coming of age well; he was an exceptional melee combat fighter, and any spar he was involved in, ended with his victory. Currently the favorite for Elder was Keen, but if Brawl challenged him, even Fleet and Root, his closest allies were skeptical at best in his victory.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

As they stepped into a clearing, a fence made of sharpened birch logs came into view. Smoke was spewing from the center of the construction, and a large gate sat in front of the group. Before entering Keen hushed, “There is no bad blood between me and him. If he wishes to become Elder he may do so. Ultimately our goal is the same, the good of the village. If I am chosen when the time comes, and he challenges me, I will have no regrets. This coming winter will be hard just like all others, any more food, pelts, and materials we get will only help,” With that, he yelled, “Open the gate!” and the six people walked into a small settlement filled with the orange glow of the bonfires.

Past the thick birches in a snow-covered forest, a young man sat patiently in the brush of the slumbering bushes. His breath was slow and focused with only the bare wisp of condensed air escaping his lips. His eyes, a steely silver, concentrated on the thin purple line sleeking across the landscape. At its end, a horned, four-legged creature stood, glancing around before lowering its head to resume eating a small rodent it must have recently killed. The beast’s bristled black fur danced on its back, surely keeping it warm through the stiff wind blowing. A tall mass of flesh covered by a thicket of fur, thick muscles bulging out from its legs, and the singular horn protruding from the top of its cranium, made the animal resemble something of a wooly rhinoceros.

The young man, now sure the beast was preoccupied with the meal under it, slowly extended his arm back into the quiver behind him and knocked an arrow on his bow. His eyes followed the translucent purple line floating in the air, centering on the creature’s chest. He aimed at that spot, drawing the string far behind his body, and set the arrow loose. A whistling sound came from the arrow as it flew through the air at high speed, and before the wooly creature could react, a piercing sound came from its heart. Its eyes widened for but a moment, resistance on its mind, but unfortunately, all the strength had left its large form as it slumped on the ground, cold enveloping the flesh under the thick matted fur, and finally darkness.

The young man exhaled deeply, and great anxiety was released in his breath, with this hunt successful his small family could survive the harsh winter months soon approaching. With relief, he grabbed the small whistle hanging from a leather string around his neck and blew it with great force. A shrill cry pierced the surrounding mountains, and soon the crunching of dried leaves could be heard as quickly approaching figures revealed themselves.

The group of men looked frustrated, being called from the hunt could be a disastrous prospect, but whenever the whistle rang, indicating an emergency, they had to come running in case disaster occurred. The tired look on their faces and red fingertips indicated they had been out in the cold for several hours, probably several had even caught on to some tracks only to be interrupted by the signal. However, although troubled by their potential loss of a meal, they all stopped in their tracks seeing the felled monster of an animal before them. “Gods, Grey, did you kill that Hooded Horn? That’ll be enough food for days!” A muscular bearded man exclaimed as more hunters began to arrive from the forest.

“I wouldn’t have called you had it not been an emergency. Figured this would be better than a couple of rodents, and even if I wanted to, I couldn’t keep this for myself. No way to haul it back. Anyway, I am willing to split it, if you all help dismantling and bringing it to the village.” The young man Grey responded. 

The bearded man looked at Grey and put a contemplative hand on his chin, “Charge, Bark, go back to camp and bring two sleds and rope, be quick, nightfall will come in a couple hours; we need to be quick or we’ll have to leave before getting this all done.” Two men who had straitened when called quickly began sprinting in the direction of smoke plumes rising high above the forest. “Alright Grey, my men and I are willing to help, but I want the head, pelt, and all the bones. Add in most of the body too.” 

Grey’s gaze fell on the man before responding, “I want to keep all the legs. I also need some rope and smaller pelts when we return, and your men will do most of the hauling. The head and rest of the body are yours if you agree to that. As for the bones, I’ll agree if I get permission to use your smoke room. What you say, Keen?” 

Keen thought for a moment, understanding that this was a rare opportunity to make a powerful polearm from the horn of the large beast. Truthfully, he cared little for the bones, and even less for the pelt. Although the body of the creature tasted foul, at the end of the day, food was food. And if he wanted, with his squad of hunters, he could hunt some small tree rodents with his squad for tasty meat. But a Hooded Horn was a rare beast to be this close to the safe area of the Prowling Forest. The value of the resources it offered, primarily the horn could not be understated. “Alright, you have a deal.” Keen did not need to be selfish at this moment, nor did he want to get on Grey’s bad side. Although rare, Grey would create opportunities like this for his squad. According to the village records, Grey would become a member of Keen’s squad upon his coming of age. This would come in one year so as training. he was brought out, but in reality, Grey would always hunt on his own after the first couple weeks, and never take the squad's spoils unless he directly contributed to them. Keen was keenly aware of Grey’s circumstances in the village, more so than most people, but rather than ridicule Grey he kept a cordial attitude with him even allowing him to join his squad to hunt.

“Root, Fleet, let’s start carving now. You better help too Grey. We need to get this done fast.” The other two men who had been sitting while their boss discussed the transaction stood and expertly began to butcher the carcass along with Grey and their leader. 

“Not that I’m complaining, but how did this thing wander so far from the inner region? I’ve only ever seen them when all the squads move together deeper in the woods,” Root asked while slicing a leg off the Hooded Horn. 

This was a question that weighed on all their minds, and although grateful for the bounty they had received, this movement was a sign of something dangerous. “We’ll discuss this with Elder when we return to the village. Worst case we will have to have to move up the grand hunt to cull the dangerous beast from the deep woods. For now, though, let us think only of celebrating back at camp.” They all nodded at Keen’s response and began to smile thinking of the first fresh meal they could have in days, and with Keen’s word of celebration, perhaps even aged fire water made from fruits that was so covetously hidden away by their squad captain.

“I think there may be three or so wandering the area, if I get lucky I’m sure I could bag another one, but we’ll have to convince Brawl to let us go out with him, and knowing his feelings for me, I’m sure he won’t be happy with me taking his’ potential prey’.” Grey sarcastically added, thinking of the lost profits of the possible excursion. By the next Waterday, the paths left behind by the Horns would be all but gone, as if they were never there in the first place.  

“Are you sure you can get one?” Keen asked with a serious look on his face. Grey stared back, although he had implied that he would have to be lucky, he was sure. By following the threads of light that would come off certain creatures, he could track another Hooded Horn if only a day had passed. 

It seemed that Keen was fully aware that his “luck” was more than it seemed, and since he often found rare creatures, this was not a surprise to him. “Yes, I’m sure. If they are in a group, I can find them, and with a good shot, take one out.” 

Keen let out a sharp breath, “I’ll take care of Brawl, make sure you're ready to leave tomorrow… early,” seeing the resolution in his eyes, Grey nodded. Time passed slowly now that the conversation had diminished. Each person solely focused on carefully carving the creature, as any mistake could harm the precious materials, and soon the sound of sleds gliding on the snow could be heard. Bark and Charge assisted in loading the now dissected body onto the sleds, and each man tied a rope around the waist and a sled. 

Bark, and Charge, pulling one with Grey following behind silently, and Fleet, Root, and Keen on the other. “Boss, how are you gonna convince Brawl? There’s no way he won’t go crazy if we bring back a hall like this on an Earthday. He’ll definitely demand us to give up most of it, if not all.” 

Keen considered his answer to Fleet’s complaint before responding, “I’ll give up first rights on the grand hunt this year. With that, even if he gets upset, he won’t say anything in public.” Both Root’s and Fleet’s eyes opened wide, the first right was rotated every grand hunt to each squad, and this time, it was their turn. To say this, was to give up a possible chance at a creature's central organ, a prized treasure that once prepared, could increase the power of a single squad immensely.

“Are you sure you want to give something like that up? This is the first grand hunt in decades, who knows if we’ll even be around to enjoy an opportunity like this again!” exclaimed Root. 

“Quiet down,” a silent growl coming from Keen sealed any further protest, from Root. “A harvest of at least one more hooded horn would benefit the village more than a small rise in our strength, and with us around we might even get two kills.” The group of three contemplated that for a moment. They all had little doubt in their minds about Grey’s forecast of the beast, their experience led them to have great faith in his ability to track. 

“Even still, are you really ok with this? You may lose your ability to compete for the name of Elder if you can’t stand up to Brawl.” Fleet was whispering now, making sure not to alert the other three members dragging the sled a few feet away from them. With the current Elder reaching the latter stage of life, there was no question that he would soon name the next, and tradition held that if one protested the decision, a battle was held, and the winner was named. Brawl suited his name-sake earned at his coming of age well; he was an exceptional melee combat fighter, and any spar he was involved in, ended with his victory. Currently the favorite for Elder was Keen, but if Brawl challenged him, even Fleet and Root, his closest allies were skeptical at best in his victory.

As they stepped into a clearing, a fence made of sharpened birch logs came into view. Smoke was spewing from the center of the construction, and a large gate sat in front of the group. Before entering Keen hushed, “There is no bad blood between me and him. If he wishes to become Elder he may do so. Ultimately our goal is the same, the good of the village. If I am chosen when the time comes, and he challenges me, I will have no regrets. This coming winter will be hard just like all others, any more food, pelts, and materials we get will only help,” With that, he yelled, “Open the gate!” and the six people walked into a small settlement filled with the orange glow of the bonfires.