Caribou

by **Cian Silvertooth** on May 18th, 2013, 8:46 am

3, Spring, 513AV

Caribou.

He hadn't had caribou in a long time. He licked snowflakes from his nose, exhaling a cloud of mist right afterwards. The cold felt good. His paws sunk deeply into the snow. He pulled them up one after another, plodding slowly through the forest. He paused for a moment, pressing his snout to the ground. His weak eyes picked up the hoofprints, but his nose picked up the smell. He grinned as well as a bear could, and lifted his head, sniffing the wind.

There.

He turned his head. The herd was up ahead, not too far away. It'd take him the rest of the day to catch up to them, but he could do it easily enough. He continued on, picking up his pace ever so slightly, mouth watering at the thought of caribou. A slight breeze blew through the trees, coming from the distant tundra. He paused and lifted his snout, sniffing the rippling air. He was going in the right direction.

As he walked, his thoughts wandered. He'd been in Avanthal for less than a week. It had been a spur of the moment decision. He'd always wanted to visit the Holds, see the dire polar bear guards. Made him happy to see Kelvics in high esteem. They were looked down upon by too many all across the world. It made him sick.

He'd decided to come out to the Reaches when he'd heard about the caribou. Plus, it'd give him time to familiarize himself with Avanthal's surroundings. Gods knew how long he'd be there. Could be a day, could be a whole season. That's the life of a wandering bodyguard like him. Sometimes employment was sparse, and sometimes it was plentiful. He could certainly say that he'd never been sedentary. Maybe he could even find another...

No. He couldn't. Not after what had happened the last time. He shook his head, sending streams of saliva into the air. No need to think about that. He was trying to relax, blow off some steam with a good hunt. Not think about Kera and Orin. He stopped again and looked down. Scat. It was old, more than a few hours by the smell. It had gone cold. Still, it was fresher than the piles he'd seen before. He stepped over it and continued on.

How was he going to approach them?

He thought it over in his head. A direct approach would be traditional. Bears weren't known for their subtlety. His humanity spoke up. A direct approach would be foolish. Wait until nightfall, let them fall asleep, and then strike. Perhaps. It could work, but it felt cowardly. He was a grizzly bear, capable of tearing through a man's armor with the swipe of his paw, snapping a neck with one bite. Why should he hide from caribou? He knew they were almost the same speed. He'd asked one of the hunters in the city. So why worry if they noticed him?

He shook his head. Decisions decisions. Another puff of hot mist escaped his nostrils. There was a light snow falling now. Not heavy enough to dampen the smell, but over time the hoofprints would be harder to see. No matter. Nothing escaped his nose. He sniffed again. They were closer. Still a good walk, but closer. They must have stopped to graze on something, or maybe they'd found a watering hole that wasn't solidly frozen. The thought of a watering hole made him thirsty. He bent down and scooped up a mouthful of fresh snow He crunched on it as he walked, letting the excess liquid drip into his fur. Refreshing.

His stomach rumbled, a muffled roar in the silence of the forest. He snorted sheepishly, sending snot and slobber everywhere. Gods but it was hard to laugh as a bear. It hadn't been terribly long since he'd last eaten, but he'd always had a hefty appetite, even as a boy...or was he a cub? Questions Kelvics would always ponder. He snorted again, pleased at his cynical wit. He continued walking, shaking his body every now and again when the snow began to settle.

The sun began to sink and he continued to walk, the smell of the caribou getting stronger with every step. The wind continued to blow gently in his direction. Favorable. They wouldn't smell him coming. He growled deep in his throat; a noise made entirely of excitement, of anticipation. He could already taste the blood on his tongue, salty and coppery. He could see it steam in the snow, and hear the crunch of bones. Again saliva filled his mouth.

His steps quickened further. He could feel his massive heart pumping blood through his limbs, hear it thudding in his ears. The thrill of the hunt was close to overtaking him. He had to be careful though. Too excited and he'd petch the whole thing up. He took a deep breath and continued on his way. Another sniff, the smell was stronger, filling his nostrils now. He was closing in on them. The sun still shone in the sky, though it was markedly closer to the horizon than it had been. He'd like to get there before darkness fell. With his eyes, hunting in the dark was more of a pain than anything.

The smell was strong now. They were close. He slowed down. Up ahead, there was a break in the forest. For an acre, maybe less, the forest was broken apart by short, hardy grass that could survive in the frigid Northern Reaches. And there, eating the grass, were the caribou.

by **Cian Silvertooth** on May 18th, 2013, 9:55 am

His eyes couldn't make out all of the shapes, but he guessed there were around forty caribou in the space between the trees. Most of them had their heads down, a few occasionally popping up and looking around. The wind was still blowing towards him. A lucky break for sure. He knew he could chase one of them down, but that didn't mean he wanted to. He lifted his head and squinted, eyes going toward the edges of the herd. That was where the weak would be. The old, the infirm, the crippled, they would all be forced to the edge of the herd. They were expendable.

He swept his head back and forth, marking his targets in his head. There were two on the left side of the herd. They'd be too hard to get to. He'd alert the others before he made it. If surprise stayed on his side, there was no way that he could lose. There was another, standing a little ways away from the group, near the forest that he was concealed in. One of its legs was jutting out at an odd angle, but it still stood proudly. He could tell that it was old, that it had seen its fair share of loss and hardship.

In his head, he promised the animal a quick death, an honorable death. It was all part of the circle of life. The predators ate the prey. That was how the world had always worked. He took a deep breath and broke cover, legs churning through the snow as he accelerated toward his target. He could hear his paws slamming down through the snow, feel his heartbeat in his chest. He felt alive.

One of the caribou looked up from its meal, eyes drifting in the direction of the charging bear. It let out a startled noise and bolted. Without hesitation the rest of the herd followed suit. They thundered into the far forest, all hoofbeats and terrified grunts. He kept moving, eyes locked on his target. It was trying as hard as it could, dragging its injured leg along behind it, letting out hoarse calls to the rest of the herd. It turned its head around as it ran. He saw the fear, smelt the fear, tasted the fear in the air.

He was close now, pounding down the distance with a savage grace. The caribou jerked left and right, trying to throw him off. He kept running, putting on speed until they were neck and neck. Without a thought, he whipped his right forepaw up, catching the caribou in the shoulder and sending it tumbling. He was on it in a flash. Teeth around the throat, quick pressure, the taste of blood in his mouth, and a grisly snap. The caribou was dead before it had a clue.

He swallowed the mouthful of blood, relishing in the warmth that filled his stomach, and yanked a chuck of flesh from the caribou's throat. He chewed quickly and swallowed before tearing off another chunk. He gulped it down as he had the first. He took another bite of the tender throat before moving down to the caribou's torso. He bit through the ribcage and into the heart, tearing it out with a mighty jerk of his neck. It was tough and chewy and more delicious than anything he'd had in a long time. His humanity begged him to savor it. He finished it in four bites. He made short work of the lungs, and then moved into the guts.

He slashed the caribou's stomach with his claws and buried his face in the warm entrails, making a mess of his snout. He didn't mind. He'd clean himself up later. He gorged on the soft organs that spilled onto the snowy ground, lapping up blood, and occasionally snapping bones to get at the marrow inside. He gorged on the guts of the caribou until he had had his fill, and moved onto the legs. Each leg took him only a few minutes. He cracked the bones with his jaws and tore the meat from them with his teeth.

He moved on to the head next. It was more than a little tricky, thanks to the old caribou's antlers. He swatted at them with his paws until the snapped off, and then he set about cracking the skull. He held it between his teeth and squeezed, increasing the pressure until he heard the bone split. He jerked his head up, coming away with the top half of the caribou's skull. He let it drop from his jaws next to the mangled corpse and scooped out the brain with his tongue. He chewed slowly. He loved the heart, that was true, but the brain had always been his favorite. There wasn't anything that tasted quite like it.

He swallowed and paused. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing. He felt like...he was being watched. The wind blew, a scent penetrated the blood. He jerked his head in the direction of the wind and stopped. Standing a few yards away was another bear, a polar bear. He could smell her. She'd given birth recently. She'd have cubs to feed. That'd be tricky, maybe a little dangerous. Even as big as he was, polar bears were dangerous opponents. She stood on her hind legs and roared.

She wanted the food. He could understand that. He stood and roared back, opening his arms wide. He was making it clear that it was his food. He couldn't appear weak. That didn't mean that he couldn't be compassionate. He dropped to all fours and huffed, nosing the mangled bits of caribou in her direction. She took a cautious step forward. He nosed the meat closer. There was still enough left for her and her cubs. He'd eaten his fill, and wouldn't mind sharing. She took another step closer, leaning down and taking a careful bite of meat. Her eyes never left him.

He grunted happily. She returned the grunt and playfully patted him with one of her huge paws. He returned the pat with one of his own, growling harmlessly. She snorted at him and scooped up a side of caribou. She dragged it off through the snow, stopping and turning her head back once. The message was clear. Follow. Shelter. Rest. He was tired. The anticipation, the action, all of it had taken it out of him. He picked up as much of the mangled carcass as he could and followed her through the snow. From nowhere, two cubs sprang up, snapping playfully at their mother's heels.

They looked at him warily, but a full-mouthed grunt from their mother allayed their fears. Soon they were back with him, running in between his feet and licking the blood from his muzzle whenever they stopped. They didn't walk for too terribly long before they reached the cave. It was spacious, warm, and dry. A good place for her to take care of the cubs. He followed them in and dropped the meat on the ground. She nuzzled him and licked at the blood on his face. He did the same to her.

He watched as she turned away, and the three of them began to eat, stuffing themselves and growling with pleasure. She turned away from her meal and grunted at him. The message was clear. He had brought food. He was a friend. He could sleep through the night and be safe. He grunted an affirmation. When the bears were done eating, they wrestled late into the night. He watched the cubs play with one another and smiled inwardly.

Finally, with the moon high in the sky, the four of them slept. He pushed them far back in the cave, and laid near the entrance himself. It was always smart to be prepared. If an intruder were to arrive, they'd step on him in the shadows long before they threatened the cubs. And if they stepped on him, that would be the last thing they did. He didn't love fighting, but he was damned good at it, and that was enough. He'd placed the family of bears under his brief protection. They could sleep safely through the night.

Finally, sleep began to overtake him as the shadows deepened. He closed his eyes and snorted one last time, before yawning and drifting off to sleep, only to dream of the hunt.

by **Cian Silvertooth** on May 18th, 2013, 10:14 am

He woke as the sun rose. His stomach was still pleasantly full, and he was as well rested as he'd ever been. The other bears were in the process of waking up, growling and complaining in their own guttural "tongue". The mother approached him, along with her two cubs, and put a large paw on his shoulder. The two exchanged a deep look. He would always be welcome here. She would not fight him, and if he were to hunt in the area again, he should seek her out. All of that in a few simple grunts and a look. The four of them rubbed snouts in turn, and he left the cave.

Perhaps he would be back. Perhaps not. Who could possibly tell? He looked at the sky, gauging his directions by the sun, something his father had taught him long ago, and began to make his way back to the city of Avanthal. The trip would take him most of the day. In other circumstances, it wouldn't take him quite as long, but he was full and saw no reason to rush. He had no pressing business in the Holds. Why not enjoy the Reaches?

So he plodded languidly through the forest, stopping every once and awhile to scratch the bark from a tree. That way he'd know which way he'd come. It was a trick he'd picked up while traveling. Or maybe it was his animal instinct. Whatever it was, it was helpful. Now he'd be able to return to the hunting fields, and the family of bears that he had discovered. The caribou would be back. They always came back. Hunger was a powerful force.

He stopped when the sun was directly overhead, and rolled in the snow to cool down. The walking had made him hot. He lapped up another mouthful of snow, crunched it between his teeth, and continued on his way. It was nearly dusk when he saw the city in the distance. He stopped and looked around. There, a few feet from where he was, was a tree with a missing section of bark. He plodded over, and swept the ground clear of snow. He took a deep breath, smelling as much as he could, before he changed.

It was almost instantaneous; liquid, and somehow oddly graceful. Where there once was a bear, now there was a naked man. He reached into a wide knothole at about chest height and pulled out his pack. In it were his clothes, shoes, toiletries, things of that nature. He opened the flap and got dressed quickly. He wasn't quite as warm now that he wasn't 900 pounds of grizzly bear. His stomach was still pleasantly full. When he was finished dressing himself, he slung his pack over his shoulders, and made his way back into the city of Avanthal. He needed to find an inn, and get some more sleep. The walk had taken it out of him.

by **Noblesse** on June 22nd, 2013, 6:03 am

Cian Silvertooth :

True nobility lies in being superior to your former self

If you have any questions or concerns regarding your grade, please send me a PM and we can figure it out. Heehee.

Caribou

Caribou

Caribou

Caribou

Caribou

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