Bjorn is going in a hunt for deer in the Hunting fields within Kvarsheim. He’s working on getting a Hunter trade. Anyone can come and help the big fellow.
Bjorn had realized with all the mouths in the pack, especially young growing ones of the children, it was time to bring in something more than small and medium sized prey. The deer in the Hunting Fields had grouped in a medium sized herd, and their were young bucks and does among them. Bring a young deer down wouldn’t be hard for Bjorn, but he would be grateful for anyone who decided to hunt with him — as it was always best to hunt in packs.
He raised a howl to signal that he would be leaving the camp. If anyone wanted to join with him, they would have to come now.
“Anyone who is able and wants to join me in a deer hunt may do so.”
I hope you don't mind me hopping in!
Moss dropped the vole he had been carrying into the cache, ear perking to the call from across the camp. Deer hunting? He tilted his head in careful consideration. It had been nearly a month since he had been welcomed into Kvarsheim, and he had yet to feel he had truly earned his right to be there. Sure, he had kept up with chores and hunting as best as he could, but what were rabbits and mice to deer? Especially with so many mouths to feed? The little wolf found themselves hesitantly padding toward the great man, ready to call out to him... before turning around and heading the opposite direction, head down and heart thumping.
Nope, nope, nope, nope.
What was he thinking? Hunting deer in his condition? Stupid! He would be more of a burden than help!
But what about all of the kids? About Tauris who had been so kind? This would be a great opportunity to show his appreciation!
But that man was so huge and intimidating! What if he got annoyed?
After several seconds of what to anyone else must have appeared to be some odd prey-burial ritual, three steps toward Bjorn, four steps back, seven steps forward, five back, Moss steadied himself with a breath and trotted, more like rushed, to the bear's side before he lost his nerve.
Uh, Hi! Um, excuse me, sir! I... I, uh, might be able to help...?
Moss stammered, ears burning as he looked awkwardly at the man and then to the ground between them, painfully aware of how small and frail he was compared to this absolute behemoth of a wolf.
Not at all! :D
Bjorn had waited, and waited, for at least someone of hunting age to join him. But eventually, one man came forward, approaching Bjorn in all his giantess. This young man stammered before him, but Bjorn was used to this reaction from those who felt intimidated by his sheer size. Yes, he did feel bad at times for scaring others, but he was simply born this way, and he felt lucky. He looked down at the other man, “Hello.” He greeted, “Thank you for stepping up to the task. I’m sure you’ll be of use.” “What is your name, sir?” He inquired.
My name is Moss, sir,
he said, anxieties easing with the friendly tone, it's a pleasure to meet you.
They offered up a friendly wag of their tail.
I'm honestly not too sure I'll be much help with the hunting itself, but I'm a good tracker, and I'm pretty quick. so I think I could help with herding?
This man may not have had much to offer in size, but if he said he was good at tracking, this vital skill was exactly what Bjorn needed. And a herding ability would be essential to boot. “Very well. I see you have potential, as herding and track will be essential in this hunt.”
“I hope for a decent hunting party, but you and I may have to take it on as a duo. We’ll head out, come along.” He announced, and began to trot off towards the hunting fields. He would let Moss take the lead as he tracked the scents.
Alright! Time to prove himself!
He had spent months working as a hunter before his accident- this was nothing new, nothing to be so nervous about.
With a nod, Moss took the lead, finding the direction of the breeze and plunging headfirst into it. He trotted in the direction of the hunting grounds, nose working furiously. Wolves, wolves, and more wolves. Scents would be useless until they got farther away from camp.
--
Moss remained quiet as the time continued to pass, eyes glued to the ground, and ears perked and listening, dreadfully aware of every second that ticked by with no leads. While he must have seemed composed, in truth, anxiety had begun to set in, fogging his brain and making it even harder to focus.
The soft creaking of the branches in the wind was punctuated by scurrying in the brush below, but what the folded ear was so carefully listening for had not yet been made apparent. Then, after a few moments, the flapping of wings broke the winter still as ravens hopped between the boughs, greeting the wolves with a croak.
Thank goodness
Right on time!
Moss smiled, returning their salutation with a happy tip-tap of their front paws.
He would follow them until the trail became apparent, sage eyes flickering between the heavens and the earth beneath. Broken branches, scratched trunks, heavy hoofprints in the soft soil; they were getting close. Moss stepped into a crouch, signaling Bjorn with a fwip of his reed-like tail.
A quick scenting of the air confirmed this notion, and the thin canine's steps grew slow and measured until they froze quite suddenly. A branch cracked loudly up ahead. Moss' ears perked to attention, listening for the dreaded blowing sound that he had come to learn meant reveal. Silence. They glanced back to their companion, gesturing with their nose.
Through grasslands and woods did they go, till they came upon the hunting meadow. Moss had kept his nose to the ground, diligently scanning each scent and leading them on. He watched Moss, and from what he could see, this man was an expert in this field.
Time went on, and finally it seemed that they had made it to their destination. Moss had crouched down low, hiding in the taller grasses, and he flicked his tail signaling Bjorn to do the same. He tried his best, despite his large size. He then whispered to Moss: “Fantastic Moss.”
Moss, again, pointed his snout towards the direction of a cracked branch. They had found the deer. Now, it would soon be up to Bjorn is take it down.
He moved up next to Moss, getting his hunting drive ready to go, his toe nails digging into the dirt. “Just let me know when we’re ready.”
I'm glad I could help.
Moss had to stop from wagging his tail like an excited pup under the man's praise. I think I might be able to sneak around to the other side so that the deer spooks towards you rather than away,
He whispered, peeking up from behind the foliage to get a good look at the animal.
There's enough cover, but if it hears me moving before I get there, it might go the other way.
He turned back to look at Bjorn, What do you think? Want to take that chance?
They remained crouch as Moss explained their makeshift plan. Moss would sneak around to the opposite side of the deer in order to shoo it in Bjorn’s direction, that way he could lunge at it head on. However, the only downside was that if the deer heard Moss approaching before he made it around to the other side, it could run away from Bjorn. Did they want to take that chance? “Yes.” He declared, “Let’s do this thing.”
He got into position, eyes locked onto the deer, ready to pounce when Moss did his part. He nodded to Moss.
Sorry for the long wait! Happy holidays! <3
Stealth check (d20, above ten=success): 1 (-2 stealth)=-1 critical failure
They were in the final phase now! Bjorn was counting on him! Kvarsheim was counting on him!
The hunter's eyes remained locked on their quarry, and off he set, one slow pawstep at a time. However, it is quite important to watch where you're going, and unfortunately for Moss, this is not what he was doing.
Front paw plunged into a hole disguised by dead foliage and snow, sending the wolf to his chest with a hrk! He gasped for air, trying to quietly reclaim the breath that was knocked from his lungs. Regrettably, it was no use being quiet any longer. A horrible mixture of stamping hooves and threatening snorting approached Moss faster than he could react; the deer had recognized them not as a threat, but as an insignificant worm to be trampled as punishment for disrupting an evening meal.
The first blow brushed past the disorientated Moss's cheek, invoking a yelp of fear. Frantic teeth snapped at air, accomanied by snarls and barks— I'm big and scary! Run away! — as the tiny wolf struggled to tear his leg free without injuring it.
The time had come, he was ready, Moss was ready…. Moss made the first move toward the deer, but in the blink of an eye, he plunged into the ground, chest first. This had alarmed the deer, which had then decided that these wolves needed to be dealt with. Bjorn looked around, assessing the situation, and quickly moved to cover Moss from the hooved assailant. The deer made one blow by Moss, but Bjorn wouldn’t let that happen again.
He stood in front of the downed man, feet imbedded into the cold dirt, staring the deer dead in the eyes. The buck took this as a challenge, and it pawed the dirt, lowering its rack of antlers. He snarled, then positioned himself to launch as the buck came rushing forward. Bjorn launched for the deer’s chest, and he held on in an attempt to bring it down, then he landed the final blow. He gave it a moment, then turned to Moss, licking his lips: “Let’s go home.” He told his hunting partner, and went to help Moss up to his feet, “We’ll get that paw taken care of.”
Bjorn would drag the buck along the pathway back to Kvarsheim, yet stuck close enough to Moss’s side should his partner need to lean on him.
Thank you so much for the thread! <3
With much effort, twisting, and pulling, Moss managed to unroot his leg, spinning desperately to help Bjorn bring down their prey, hoping to do something to help. Something to make up for his blunder.
The deer fell dead at the bear man's great paw. Moss hadn't touched it once.
Moss nodded as Bjorn spoke, his eyes glued to the deer's body as he tried to ignore the burning slowly overtaking his face. I think my paw is fine, maybe a little bruised, but uh, it's alright.
They mumbled, wondering why the hole hadn't committed to swallowing them up so they wouldn't have to be standing here right now.
With a chunk of the deer left as a thank you to the birds and a small prayer of gratitude to the spirits for the successful hunt, Moss began the long, awkward trek back to Kvarsheim, taking up station in the rear so that he might help hold up the carcass's legs.
Of course, it was a pleasure. :) I’d say this is a good spot to wrap it archive it.
The two worked hard to drag it back, and along the way he kept looking back to his hunting partner, perhaps checking in on Moss, or giving him a look of encouragement. Moss’s paw was fine, he said, maybe bruised:
“Your fortunate it wasn’t more.” He told Moss, then continued on, speaking warmly,
“When we get back, I want to be sure you get a fair share. You deserve it as much as I.” “I thank you greatly for your service.”
From there, he hauled in silence till they reached the standing stones.