The Hunt

The rain hammered into the ground like it held a grudge. Small craters exploded under the bombardment before being consumed by the converging tributaries as the water sought a release across the sodden ground.

The tree canopy did little to protect that which it sheltered from the onslaught. Leaves were driven aside by the deluge and the overlapping cacophony of sporadic impacts merged into one raucous chorus, within which a natural rhythm was somehow established. Order amongst chaos. Light and dark. Life and death. Growth and entropy.

And, amongst this tribute to Leshavit, a pair of hoofed feet added their own contribution to the beat. Here a squelch. There a splash. Then a thud. The hooves drummed out the percussion of nature as they traversed the forest floor.

Their owner was unhurried but purposeful; relaxed whilst also poised. And why wouldn’t they be? Jayda was in her element. Jayda was on the hunt.

Swift strides brought the slender faun to the base of a tree, where a particularly dense canopy provided a rare refuge from the storm. The inclement weather made tracking harder but not impossible, particularly if you knew what to look for. Jayda did. Hoofprints milling on the protected ground. Displaced bark where her quarry had huddled against the tree’s trunk. Her prey had identified the sheltered nature of the spot, tried to conceal themselves as best as possible before abandoning it as being too exposed. It told Jayda enough; she was on the right track.

With a powerful thrust she propelled herself back into the rain, pushing a path through the deluge as she continued her pursuit. Her long, silvery hair bounced as she zigged and zagged, sure hooves picking the safest way across the uneven forest floor. Arrows rattled in their quiver on her back, the strap that secured it shifting subtly with every change of direction. Her wyrdwood bow, already as much a part of her as any regular limb, was held out for balance in a perfect example of poise and grace.

A fallen tree blocked her path. Powerful muscles propelled her up its circumference, hooves finding purchase where none seemed to be. She landed atop it in a crouch, bow arm flung backwards and free hand touching the rough bark to reinforce her balance. Keen eyes, narrowed to shield them from the driving rain, scanned the dim surroundings.

As if acknowledging the drama of the pose, thunder rumbled and lightning flashed in the near distance, illuminating the scene before her. Trees ahead and to the right, chaotically scattered as if the hand of some behemoth had dropped them from a great height. Away to the left, the rocky face of a cliff climbed. Towards the summit it curved outwards, forming a precarious overhang, beneath which clumps of vegetation clustered, providing plenty of cover beneath which a prey could find sanctuary.

The glance provided by the lightning flash was enough. Jayda leapt from her vantage point and hit the forest floor at a run. With the rain hammering down, surrounded by the towering trees, the power of Leshavit’s bounty enveloped Jayda and penetrated the core of her being, energising her as she engaged in that most primal of practices; the hunter tracking the hunted.

Another boom of thunder was followed quickly by its accompanying flash of lightning. The storm was overhead now, powerful and oppressive. The second flash had further clarified the scene, now Jayda was closer. The cliff curved inward until it hit a clump of bushes around twenty yards from her position. They were dense and tall, clustered around the base of a thick tree; a perfect place for prey to conceal itself. Closer to, around five yards from her position, more bushes gathered around a natural concave in the rock face, from which the faint light of a flickering flame could be made out.

Wondering how her prey could be so stupid, Jayda pushed more speed into her legs. Her free hand reached up to retrieve an arrow from the quiver at her back and so it was, as she rounded the bushes shielding the cave mouth and entered the dry of the shelter beyond, the arrow was already nocked, bow drawn tight, eyes sighted down the shaft at her target.

In the middle of the cave, a small cauldron bubbled over a crackling fire, beside which a spinescent bush stretched its thorns forth as if reaching for the warmth. On the other side of the cauldron, a dumpy faun sat on the barren earth, legs splayed as it hunched forward, gazing up at Jayda with big, innocent eyes, in which the firelight danced.

“Chubbs?” Jayda exclaimed, relaxing the bowstring slightly but keeping the arrow aimed at the smaller faun. “What are you doing here?”

Chubbs’ eyes shifted to the cauldron and then back to Jayda.

“Chubbs cook wiltnettle stew,” he explained, in a voice befitting his stature. “Chubbs like wiltnettle stew.”

“Yes,” said Jayda, exasperation creeping into her voice, “but why here?”

“Camp wet. Fire not like wet.”

Jayda struggled for a follow-up question. The faun wasn’t wrong. It was very, very wet.

Chubbs’ gaze moved from Jayda’s features to her bow, still partially drawn and aimed in his direction. With purposeful movements he heaved himself sideways, grunting slightly as he used his hands to propel himself upright. Jayda tracked him with her bow as he waddled away from the fire to where a short bow nestled against the cave wall next to a small quiver of arrows. With great ceremony he picked up the bow and withdrew one of the arrows. He nocked it and drew back the string, aiming at Jayda in a mirror image of the larger faun.

“Chubbs be like you!” He exclaimed. “Chubbs great hunter!”

It was all Jayda could do to keep a straight face.

“That you are, Chubbs,” she assured him, “but you’re not who I’m looking for.”

The movement was only slight but Jayda missed nothing. One moment Chubbs’ open, honest eyes were on her own, the next they flicked to glance at a point over her right shoulder before darting quickly back. It was all the tell Jayda needed.

In one fluid motion she span, pulling the arrow back as she did so and sighting down the shaft. There was movement from the clump of bushes further down the cliff face, the one she had already identified as a possible hiding spot. She cursed herself for not trusting her instincts even as she let the arrow fly.

The missile whipped from her bow. It travelled a short distance before striking the raindrops beyond the cave mouth. They scattered as the tip pierced their ranks, clearing a path towards its destination.

The arrow bridged the distance in moments and thudded into the trunk of the tree amidst the bushes, only inches from the bullish head that had emerged from its hiding place. Two long horns sprouted from the big faun’s head, curling to either side to frame features frozen in a shocked rictus.

“Hey!” the faun yelled, his anger propelling his voice across the distance even over the chaos of the storm.

Without turning her body, Jayda looked back at Chubbs, regarding him solemnly. “Did Hoff put you up to being a distraction?”

Chubbs did not reply but the look of frozen innocence on his face told her everything she needed to know.

Shaking her head, Jayda stepped back out into the rain towards her cornered prey, who still had not moved.

“Hey!” Hoff protested again as she came close, his deep gruff voice at odds with the whine of his words. “You could’ve hit me!”

Jayda shook her head once more and yanked her arrow from the tree in one powerful movement.

“If I’d have wanted to hit you, I would have,” she promised. She fixed him with a hard stare. “Shame on you for using Chubbs like that.”

Hoff’s look of indignation dissolved into one of guilt. “You found me anyway,” he pointed out, by way of mitigation.

Jayda smiled. “As always.”

“Best of seven?”

Jayda’s grin widened. She loved the hunt. “You’re on.”