Hideaway Strath Boys are like trees, they take 50 years to grow up

this post is for @Kynareth Deagon
MATURE!! Very descriptive religious ceremonies. Please remember this toon in no way reflects my personal values or thoughts

The overweight white brute was getting his paws under him, exploring the territory finding in’s and outs. In his journeys back and forth between where ever and the Gaia’s Alter he had found a warren of rabbits. Rather then stalk and hunt them, Vein lay outside their warren for over a day staying stubbornly still, his muscles aching but that was a pain he was used to. Why kill prey when it could come to him, in time and present itself. Patiently he waited eyes barely open so that he was one with the snow and landscape and he was eventually rewarded, almost a day after his vigil started, when finally a young hare wandered out and passed by to close.

The beast lunged forward despite angry stiff muscles and snapped up the youngling, though he did not kill it rather he held it by the chest and front legs leaving it’s head and back legs free. He did not need its death, not yet.

The squeals of the frightened creature sang to the beast deep within his soul, he simply trotted away from the den sparing all the rest of the warren the fate of this one. The hare fought for it’s life slashing it’s back legs at the underside of his jaw flailing desperately hoping to be dropped. Despite blood flowing from the underside of his chin the shaman did not release his treasure. He barely flinched with each desperate slash with the dagger’s the hare called claws.

Each paw step was measured as it brought him to a path that would soon become a well worn one. A small clearing one with a large flat rock in the very centre, there were drag marks providing the stone was not there by nature’s design but rather painstakingly moved and shoved. Each inch carefully measured making sure the flat makeshift rock alter was in the very centre the very heart of this small clearing and even some brush had been chewed up and removed making the clearing roughly circular.

The hare’s moments were numbered, but in Vein’s eyes this small creature would be offering it’s essence to a greater purpose. The squealing had not subsided indeed as the male stopped before the flat clean rock the young hare seemed to sense something and it’s fear became palpable, it slashed out with renewed effort. With a quick flick of his head and the hares own frantic flailing it gave a guttural moan as it’s spine snapped. It lived but it would never hop again.

Vein smirked it was as if the gods were aiding him, they wanted this sacrifice enough to offer a hand. He set the creature on the ground, not yet upon the alter. Blood dripped from his chin and waste not want not.

He lay down before the alter and pressed his chin to it's surface and offered a rich melodic chant in a foreign tongue, never moving his chin from the rock allowing his blood to pool there. After a few moments he stood, placed a paw upon the blood and smoothed it across the surface moving his paw along the top of the rock over and over again until it had a light sheen of blood across the entire surface.

The White High Priest then stood and touched his nose to the centre of the rock and smoothed his tongue along its surface and if kissing a long lost lover, tasting his own blood. He stepped back blood upon his tongue, lips and nares, Vein lifted his head and crooned to the skies. “Here me, take this gift in recognition.”


It was now that he took up the hare it was barely breathing but it was alive, he lay it upon the lower half of rock and flipped it upon it's back, the thing groaned. Vein stood above it paws on either side of it’s head, he leaned down and carefully bit into it's chest tearing open it’s chest, one snip and the bones of it’s ribs were gone and the shaman carefully pulled the still beating heart from the hare and lay it in the very centre of the rock where he had licked away his blood, the Hare’s blood flowed out upon the rock, mixing with the wolf blood. The bodiless heart still beat weakly a few more times before stilling, it’s last beat offered to the gods. It’s life, it’s blood, it’s essence and soul all being carried to the gods bosom. Vein gave a low and throaty howl calling to the gods to take his offering as it was offered.