Neverwinter Forest uxar

open to all hunters

the cold bit deep into his exposed scars, the hollow where his right eye had once been stinging with every gust of wind. sólhrárr trudged through the snow with a single-minded purpose, his massive form carving a path through the drifts as the northern winds howled around him. the memory of the black ram still lingered—its defiant charge, the sharp burst of pain, and the sightless dark that followed.

but the bride price was not complete. for callyope, he would endure the gods' trials a hundred times over.

the hunt today was not for prey to eat but for the pelt of an ox—thick, strong, and noble. something worthy for callyope to weave, to craft with her clever paws. his left eye scanned the white expanse, unyielding, unrelenting, despite the dull throb of his missing vision.

he had no time for weakness. the world did not stop for a wolf with one eye.

a low growl built in his throat as his pace quickened. if there were oxen here, he would find them. and when he returned, bearing their hide as a prize, he would place it before her and say nothing. she would know what it meant.

Luhtar trailed in Sólhárr’s wake, the chill burrowing deep into his own wounds and the stiff aches that would not yet leave him. He kept his head lowered against the biting wind, breath pluming in short huffs as he struggled, thick hide and fatty frame in tow, to match the Hárkonungr’s relentless pace.

Still, Luhtar did not falter. If Sólhárr moved forward, he would follow. It was not his place to complain, not while the leader of Forneskja pressed on, forging ahead for the sake of his beloved. The ox they sought would not be easy prey.

A glimpse to Solharr had him inwardly flinching, eyes falling gently upon his scuffed resolve. The man acted as if the loss of his eye did not bother him, but Luhtar found it hard to believe. He respected Sólhrárr’s strength, admired his will, yet concern stirred beneath the battered surface of Luhtar’s own pride.

With a shake of his fur, he steadied himself.

sólhárr moved with purpose, his golden eye fixed on the trail ahead, the cold wind slicing through the air like a blade. the scent of the oxen was faint but present, and he pressed forward, unyielding despite the aching pull of his own wounds. his steps were steady, each stride a declaration of his resolve.

he glanced back once, just enough to ensure luhtar was still with him. the younger wolf’s breath came in steady huffs, his thick frame bearing the weight of exhaustion, but he kept pace. sólhárr’s gaze lingered briefly, a flicker of acknowledgment passing between them before he turned his attention forward again.

the ox won’t wait, sólhárr rumbled, his voice low but firm, carried easily over the howling wind. we push through.

his tail flicked in a gesture for luhtar to close the gap, his stride slowing slightly to match the other’s pace. sólhárr wouldn’t say it aloud, but he recognized the strength it took for luhtar to follow without complaint, the same strength he demanded of himself.

as they crested a small ridge, sólhárr paused, his ears twitching at the distant rumble of heavy hooves against frozen earth. his head lifted, nostrils flaring as he caught the faint musk of their quarry. the oxen were close.

there, he said, motioning with a tilt of his head toward the faint shadows moving against the snow-blown horizon. he glanced at luhtar, his expression hard but not unkind. stay sharp. they’re big, but we’ll bring one down.

without waiting for a response, sólhárr moved again, his steps quieter now, the hunt pulling him forward with an unrelenting drive.

Luhtar followed in Sólhárr’s wake, each one carrying the dull ache of his healing wounds. The wind stung at his flank, biting against the tender puncture there. Pain was secondary to duty, and duty demanded he keep pace.

When Sólhárr glanced back, Luhtar met his gaze briefly, nodding his understanding. He didn’t need words to know what the Hárkonungr expected of him. They’d done this before—the ram, and other countless hunts of ungulate.

Luhtar’s ears flicked forward. He closed the gap between them, his breath steady despite the weight of exhaustion pressing against his frame. "I follow," he grunted.

When the ridge fell away beneath them and the oxen came into view, Luhtar’s gaze sharpened. The beasts were massive, their hulking forms dark against the endless white. He inhaled deeply, the musky scent of their quarry filling his nose. His muscles coiled beneath his thick pelt as he assessed the terrain—a wide expanse of snow, a scattering of rocky outcroppings, and the low groan of wind curling through it all.

As Sólhárr began to move again, Luhtar followed without hesitation.

sólhárr’s golden eyes lingered on the hulking forms of the oxen below, their breath rising in great plumes against the icy air. their sheer size was a challenge, their strength unmatched by smaller prey, but the hunt would test more than just their brute force. this would demand precision, patience, and resilience—qualities sólhárr trusted luhtar to hold beside him.

good, sólhárr rumbled, acknowledging luhtar’s steadfastness as the younger wolf closed the gap. his voice carried a weight of command, low but deliberate, the kind that didn’t need volume to be heard.

he shifted his weight forward, his broad frame lowering as he gestured with his muzzle toward the nearest ox. it stood slightly apart from the others, one leg lifting stiffly with each step—a sign of weakness sólhárr wouldn’t ignore.

we take it. force it from the herd.

he moved then, each step deliberate and quiet, his paws finding the frozen ground with practiced ease. sólhárr’s posture remained low, his movements fluid as he signaled for luhtar to flank the opposite side. together, they would split the target from the herd, isolating it where the strength of numbers could no longer protect it.

he didn’t look back again; he didn’t need to. sólhárr trusted luhtar to follow, to execute the plan with the same resolve that had carried them through countless hunts before. the wind howled in the distance, but sólhárr’s focus remained fixed, his body coiled like a spring ready to unleash. the hunt had begun.

His breath fogged in the cold air as he circled wide. Snow crunched softly under his paws. The stiff-legged ox was his target, a single flaw in a wall of power. One opening—that was all they needed.

He swept to the far side, ensuring the hulking beast would be driven away from the herd if it tried to flee. The ache in his flank flared with every movement, but he ignored it; the hunt demanded his full focus. Catching Sólhárr’s silhouette in his periphery, Luhtar nodded.

As he crouched low, tension coiled in his muscles, Luhtar felt the wind bite at his ears. His breath huffed shallow, heart pounding a steady rhythm.

He exhaled once more, ready. When Sólhárr made his move, Luhtar would be there.

sólhárr’s amber eyes locked on the male ox, every muscle in his powerful frame coiled tight, waiting for the perfect moment. the air was heavy with the musk of the herd, the sound of their low grunts and shifting hooves filling the crisp silence of the snowy expanse. his breath fogged in short bursts as he crept closer, his movements deliberate and fluid, a predator calculating his strike.

without a word, sólhárr surged forward, breaking into a thunderous sprint. the snow scattered beneath his paws as he charged the ox, his body a blur of gold and earth against the stark white. the beast bellowed in alarm, its head lowering as it prepared to meet the challenge, but sólhárr was faster. he angled his approach to the ox’s blind side, his jaws parting as he lunged for the vulnerable tendon above its hind leg.

his teeth sank into flesh, the thick muscle giving way under his force. the ox reared with a pained roar, kicking out wildly, but sólhárr held firm, his weight dragging the beast down. he growled low, his focus unrelenting even as the ox thrashed beneath him.

now, luhtar! he barked, his voice a harsh command through the din of the struggle. he knew his companion would not falter; together, they would bring the mighty beast to its knees.

Luhtar burst into action at Sólhárr’s summons, racing in with a surge of raw power. He skirted the flank of the struggling ox, waiting for that perfect opening—the moment when its balance faltered beneath Sólhárr’s relentless grip.

Snow kicked up around his paws, the crisp air stinging his lungs as he closed in.

The ox lurched to the side, hooves scraping for purchase. A tremor ran through its massive frame. That was all Luhtar needed. He darted low, aiming for the creature’s throat, strong jaws clamping down with unyielding force. He could taste blood and hot breath, feel the thunder of panicked pulse beneath his teeth.

The ox bucked hard, twisting its heavy head, but Luhtar held fast. He dug in, bracing his hind legs against the ground, growling through clenched jaws. The beast’s legs trembled, weakened by Sólhárr’s bite and the sudden, crushing grip at its neck.

It tried to bellow, but Luhtar’s weight and pressure choked off the sound.

He felt the ox’s strength ebbing, the sinew and bone straining.

sólhárr felt the ox's resistance weaken, its massive frame trembling under their relentless assault. luhtar's grip at its throat had choked off its bellows, its struggles slowing as exhaustion took hold. the scent of blood hung heavy in the air, mingling with the cold bite of the snow.

this was it.

with a growl rumbling deep in his chest, sólhárr released his hold on the flank and surged forward. his powerful legs propelled him up along the beast’s heaving side, claws raking for purchase as he leapt toward its head. the ox twisted in a desperate, final attempt to shake him off, but sólhárr’s jaws found their mark—clamping down on the thick ridge of its neck, just above the spine.

his teeth pierced deep, his grip unyielding. sólhárr used his full weight to wrench the ox downward, forcing its knees to buckle and its head to slam into the churned snow. he could feel the life leaving it, the frantic pulse beneath his teeth slowing, until finally, it stilled.

sólhárr stood over the fallen beast, breath heaving, blood dripping from his muzzle. he lifted his head, golden eyes cutting through the frosted air as he looked to luhtar. a low, satisfied growl escaped him. the hunt was over. the kill was theirs.

Luhtar stood panting, his broad chest heaving as he released his grip on the ox’s throat and stepped back, watching the beast collapse under Sólhárr’s final strike. The massive animal stilled, its breath a fleeting memory, and the snow beneath it painted crimson with the effort of their hunt.

The younger wolf’s yellow eyes flicked to Sólhárr, taking in the sight of the Hárkonungr standing victorious, blood staining his muzzle and a primal energy still radiating from his frame. Luhtar gave a slow nod, his gaze heavy with respect and acknowledgment.

“Well done,” he rumbled, his voice low but steady, carrying the weight of shared effort and success. His tail wagged faintly, though he was careful not to let his injuries show too much. The ache in his shoulder and the dull throb from the wounds on his flank were reminders of the price they had paid, but they were secondary to the triumph of the moment.

He padded closer, his movements slower now as the adrenaline began to fade, and cast a glance down at the ox. “Big beast,” he muttered, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Good hunt. Forneskja will feast.”

sólhárr stood tall over the fallen beast, his broad chest heaving as the adrenaline began to fade. blood smeared his auburn fur, a stark contrast to the pristine snow beneath the ox. his single golden eye swept over luhtar, taking in the younger wolf’s bloodied form, the faint rise and fall of his chest, and the pride that flickered in his gaze.

a good hunt, he rumbled, his voice steady and low, carrying the weight of approval. his tail swayed once, deliberate, before stilling again. he stepped closer to the massive carcass, his gaze shifting momentarily to the beast before fixing back on luhtar.

forneskja will feast because of its wolves. because of you, sólhárr said firmly, his tone carrying the strength of acknowledgment. you show strength today. and loyalty. two things this land demands.

he turned, the weight of his authority unmistakable as he motioned toward the distant peaks. bring it home. they wait for us. without another word, sólhárr began to move, trusting luhtar to follow with their prize, the silent bond of a successful hunt tying them closer to the heart of forneskja.