2.3

Jewel did not sigh or otherwise show any of her disappointment, as that would be very rude to her poor brother. But inside, she really wanted to.

So far, Alexander had not managed to hit a quail from the flock Jewel had found. He had missed three more rabbits after the footmen had carefully gotten them into position for another shot, and his aim was honestly only getting worse as the hunt continued.

The weather had also continued to worsen as they moved their way from meadow to meadow in the hunting woods. What had started with scattered breaks in the cloud cover was turning into an all-encompassing gray above them, with roils that called to Jewel with their promise of lightning and the churning rain waiting to break free all over them.

The mood was also souring around her brother’s growing frustration, and any calls to try and calm him so that he could perhaps make a shot clearheaded fell upon deaf ears.

Most recently, his latest attempt had spooked the game before even letting loose an arrow.

It was looking like whatever they caught in their snares was going to have to be the prize of the hunt. Which was turning her brother’s disposition to an even darker gloom as Muriel’s glances at the sky and a few pointed looks at Jewel who very staunchly refused to nod or acknowledge them.

Which she thought said plenty on the matter: yes, they would indeed need to head back if they did not want to be caught in a summer downpour, Muriel.

As if this silent confirmation was the final straw, the noble children’s Governess finally spoke up before Alexander could badger the poor footmen into another fruitless scrounging for a prey.

“Young Sir, we are going to be caught in a storm if we do not turn back now. Best to head along our old trail and retrieve the snares and what catches they have for us to conclude the hunt.”

Which started a tear filled complaint.

“But I haven’t stuck ANYTHING! Not even a stupid rabbit!”

But he did at least turn with them back to the horse who had been having a far more pleasant time of it, having plenty of success getting fat on their devastation and ruin brought to the clovers of the wood, their lips wet with the lamentations of their victims.

Kraok offered another fruitless word of encouragement.

“It’s nothing to be worried about, young sir, we set the traps just in case. When I first went hunting as a boy I had to spend a night hungry because I barely even caught sight of anything, let alone hit them with an arrow.”

Which honestly just seemed to upset Alexander more.

“It's the stupid rabbits, and birds and all. They're all too small, I can hit the targets in the courtyard from twice this distance!”

And more did he complain.

But as they made their way through the woods and back to the meadows that started the hunt, Jewel started to hear the most distressing sound she had ever experienced.

It was shrill and terrified and full of pain.

Before that day If there could be said to be a sound of panic and horror Jewel would have imagined something far less terrible than that sound.

It rose in shrieking breathy wails, almost whistling out and it put her ill at ease.

Was some kind of monster tormenting some animal?

Not simply killing but torturing with a cruelty that was unmatched.

Muriel pulled her horse over from the fuming whining of her Brother to get close enough to whisper to Jewel.

“Is there a problem, Lady Jewel? You seem ill at ease.”

Jewel gave a heavy shudder that passed from the back of her skull to the tip of her tail then reflected back up her haunches. She whispered softly to Muriel.

“Something ahead of us is screaming. I’ve never heard a sound like it. No bird nor beast I’ve ever heard sounds like that.”

Which brought a look of concern to the Governess and she pulled back to consult with Kraok and Gimletson while the other hunters moved ahead of them, eyes alert.

The whispered conversation abruptly broke with Gimletson’s laughter.

“Oh that’s nothing to worry about, rabbits in snares sometimes give a blood chilling scream when they get caught. Is the damnedest sound but nothing to worry about. Although it might draw in a fox or wolf if we’re not fast. Best pick up the pace!”

Which prompted the riders to bring their clover-stuffed horse to a disgruntled trot along the worn deer path. Soon they needed to go single file for the sake of not injuring the horse on uneven ground. Jewel instead just continued her soft skipping off of trees and moss adjacent to the trail but a bit above the tangled shrubbery of the underbrush rather than doing so along the once thicker trail.

Her brother and Muriel stiffened and looked around, which told Jewel when they could hear the awful rabbit shriek for themselves. And, spurred on by the sound and the hunters, they soon broke into the meadow again, empty now of any and everything which lived above ground. Not even the bees and other smallest birds were to be found or heard.

Although with a glance to the sky, Jewel suspected that was more because of the threat of rain the clouds were starting to bulge and tumble with.

The rabbit was caught with its leg in a snare, but it was stiff on its side, as if somehow frozen by more than the ugly loop of twine and terrible twisting to its leg.

Did the footmen know some sort of magic to weave into their snares?

The small beast’s screaming was terrible, the mouth gaping wide on its inhale and the eyes staring in all directions.

It was disquieting, the rabbit unmoving but for trembling shakes and eyes darting, yet screaming all the same until with great mercy, Kraok silenced it with a short stab of a knife through its neck.

Then in blessed silence, casual as any of the kitchen staff, he undid the knot of the twine, rolled it back up and then gutted the carcass down the middle with a swift tug and a practiced hand pulling the innards free with a sudden blooming smell of offal.

Alexander flinched back a bit but Muriel and the other footmen were inured. Simply going to check the other snares. Where apparently the rabbits had managed to die from panicked seizing snapping their spines or simply because their necks had been caught in the snare and they had been strangled.

Those corpses were likewise gutted, the blood drained mostly before they were tied to the horse, but left dangling to finish letting out the last drabs while they rode and then everyone was back in saddle (besides Jewel) and they were moving onto the next meadow.

And the next.

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Jewel only heard the terrible screaming panic of the rabbits one more time, but she almost wondered if that was better than the ones they came across that were obviously alive but simply frozen in terror too afraid to even manage the death scream.

It was so different from how plants screamed. More than just how it was sound instead of the distressed aroma.

But when a blade of grass or a clover was torn into and it bled its cries to the air there was a sense of determination and obligation.

Something like what the books said about honor, Jewel thought.

It did not smell like panic. There was none of the despair. Even when it was a mortal wound upon the stem.

But Rabbits.

They feared and screamed in terror more blind and horrible than the literally blind foliage they fed upon.

Jewel considered in silence the difference.

With the gutting and cleaning finished on the last of the rabbits they were in the very first meadow they had come to.

The saddles were loaded with a dozen open carcasses. Three to a side tied to two of the horses.

Alexander had gotten off his horse to stretch his legs and have a look around, he had settled somewhat from half-shed tears of frustration and pleading, turned to obstinate silence.

Apparently screaming rabbits had not bothered him since he had attended other hunts. Jewel was not so sure if she would ever be so accustomed to that sound, but maybe she heard it differently then they did.

She was scenting the air as they she had before, the pregnant tumultuous imminence of rain and thunder was growing so thick it almost smothered out the sparse animal trail still in the meadow.

Thanks to the shrieking no other game was present. Not even the wolves or fox that had been warned of.

Alexander’s scent went off downwind of them. He was being very quiet.

Jewel was a good sister and given she could not smell the sharp pin in the nose of piss (that was a mistake she would only ever make once) she confidently skipped through the meadow in great undulating swells, peeking up over the field grass as she went like it was a green pond.

Even as such she could not spot her brother — he was taking the time to practice his hunter’s stride!

That must mean he was feeling better after all!

She used her nose to find the spoor from his sweat in the grass, winding sinuously and as stealthy as she could now to play the game with him as well.

Her greeting however froze on her lip when she reached him.

Crouched in his hunter’s stance, bow drawn, and eyes clear and angry as he lined up a shot.

But it was not upon another rabbit, or even a deer.

No, instead there in line with her brother’s arrow and square in his gaze was the snuffling flanks of the largest boar she had ever seen.

No, the largest boar she had ever even heard legends of!

If this was not some monster wandered free of a lair she would drink lye!

Its hair was bristly and brown, and the thing’s shoulders were rippling with muscle and a thick near pitch skin. It was rooting at the earth quietly.

A few hundred paces away, just barely visible in the underbrush for how it disturbed it.

But even so it was obviously incredibly large.

It was taller than any of their horses at the shoulder. It had four tusks that shined near white, flashing through the gaps in the leaves and foliage.

It looked like it might even be heavier than Jewel herself!

Her spine trembled in concern.

She drew up next to her brother and hissed as quietly as she could.

“Alexander, No, That’s a Boar.”

He had to just not have realized how big it was at this distance and mistook it for a deer between all the leaves and other sundry.

Surely?

But despite all her care to warn him of his mistake, apparently that was a bit too much, as her brother let fly. The arrow sailed truer than any had all day.

And stuck solidly halfway down the bladed head in the boar's rump.

Which in spite of the arrow sticking out of its hide welling with a bit of blood grunted with barely a hint of discomfort and spent what felt like a good while simply finishing snuffling and munching on whatever it was eating behind the bushes.

Jewel gave herself a moment to hope that maybe it would not be enough to provoke the animal. Boar gave even Father concern and the hunts for them were always a much larger and better armored party then this.

And those were much smaller beasts then this Behemoth.

Finally and with a complete lack of fear the thing turned about in its bushes to glare at the Wyrmling and then after evaluating her as not being the source of the offending arrow, turning to her brother and fixing him across the yawning distance with a dismissive snort.

Jewel could just barely find it in herself to repeat what she had said but more accusingly.

“Alexander! That. Is. A. Boar!”

The beast — whose ridged back stood high enough it would just be in petting range for Alexander astride Fetherfew — slowly, laboriously turned around fully and shook all down its back, the Arrow coming loose with barely any resistance against the violent shake.

Her brother seemed frozen in the dawning realization of what he had just done.

But instead of doing something sensible, as Jewel turned and joined the boar in staring, he strung another arrow and lined it up on the boar’s head.

Who watched him do it with complete calm, not a shred of fear.

“Alexander!?”

Her voice was rising in panic as she flicked her eyes from watching her brother’s grip tightened and the animal he’d already only slightly injured squared up with him.

“That’s!”

He let loose the arrow. It hit squarely in the middle of the thing’s head and simply skimmed up its brow and sailed off into the woods, leaving an angry welling line of shallow blood with hints of bone just visible beneath.

“A!”

Jewel took in a great heaving lung full of air and let out a shout so loud that all the forest might have heard it, but more importantly it definitely was going to reach their guardians further back in the meadow.

“BOAR!”