Hoshor Plains Bison Hunt 3 [Njords Group]

Hi Everyone! This thread will only go for two more rounds.

This Round: We will be actively hunting the bison.

Final Round: We will succeed, the bison will die, and we feast!

I have prepared some prompts for dice rolls, if you’d like!

Happy hunting!

Edit: There is no posting order

Photography by Glenn Plumb

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The troupe gathered and the dark, scarred girl was the first to speak up. Njord smirked and appreciated Mae’s gumption. She said she was fast, and the huntlead believed it. Her lean body type and sharp angles meant she was a creature born for the chase. The scars on her body showed she could endure pain and discomfort; a young woman full of tenacity.

Rusalka’s quiet and calculative mein matched his massive size. A boulder of a man – like he had been carved from the mountainside. Njord felt he was very tactical and would not take unnecessary risks out of ego or pride. In many ways, Rusalaka reminded Njord of the late Kaertok.

Kivaluk, as Njord had learned, was Kaluktuk’s son. However, something Chalkiux had once said about his own son, Ray, echoed in his mind: ‘a boy becoming man needs other men to recognize what he has become but not to be a father who he might fail.’ Though Njord was unaware of their troubled relationship, he would look upon Kivaluk as his own man; his own hunter.

The young man was a well-made young wolf. Stocky and muscled; a creature who grew into its prime. He too, like Mae, relied on speed over strength.

Then, Ravin spoke confidently. He was a dark boy with a piercing stare, and Njord was pleased to hear he considered himself an all-arounder with an aptitude for speed. This was good for their hunting party, and Njord knew Ravin’s presence would balance their entourage.

Shikoba, Njord felt, was the wisest and most experienced hunter of the group. Not only because of her age but because of the prominent rank she held within Moonglow. As a keen hunter, the man knew she would be an important piece of their puzzle: Njord trusted that Shikoba would know exactly where to strike.

And then, as Njord’s head turned to regard the youngest member of their group, Anathema suddenly lost her nerve and ran. “Let ‘er go,” he said in a flat tone, “s’better she leave now than later.” His blue eyes turned to the rest of his hunters as if to ask: anybody else? Now was the final boarding call. If more wolves defected during the hunt, it would mean danger for the rest.

Then, Njord continued.

“Rodyn ‘as told me bison are no like other beasts. We dinnae have much ground cover for a surprise, an’ if we choose wrong tha Bison will form a protective circle ‘round one another. It’ll be imperative tae approach it strategically.”

“Mae, Kivaluk,” he called their names. “You will run in tandem as our vanguards an’ spearhead tha hunt. First, we must panic tha herd tae scatter it, an’ then you both will drive tha bison from its kin. Be fierce. Be dangerous.”

“Ravin, Shikoba,” he said next. “Once tha bison has been separated, take opposite sides tae keep it corralled. We must run it straight tae fatigue it. Aim your fangs well tae weaken it, make it bleed."

“Rusalka,” Njord regarded the man for the most harrowing job, “you an’ Ah will be tha anchors. When tha bison cannae run anymore, we will weigh it down with our strength. Take Shikoba’s side, if ye have tha choice. Ah will take Ravin’s.”

It was a good plan, Njord felt, that would optimize their assets. The young, strong wolves had plenty of energy to run the bison to the point of collapse. From there, they would leverage their strength to bring it down.

“Are ye ready?” Njord asked as his tail waved stiffly like a red flag. Then, he let out a loud whoop and led his hunters to where the bison grazed. There he spied an old bull on the precipice... larger and more dangerous than a cow, but... perhaps he would be easily separated from the rest -- no other bison would turn back to defend him.

When everyone was in place their hunt would begin. Njord looked to Mae and Kivaluk... a lull of silence came over the plains. A quick flick of his good ear; a subtle signal to run. The hunt was on!

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Photography by Jeff Turner © River Road Films, Ltd.