Solo Boar Hunting

[Roderick]

52nd of Summer, 513 AV The boar in front of him was standing almost perfectly still, sniffing at the air; he’d stepped on something and alerted it. He had followed its path through the woods for some time, following trampled grass, passing through crushed bushes, all so he could get even a glimpse of his chosen prey. With no time to spare Roderick drew his bow and loosed at the boar; the arrow took it in the shoulder, forcing a loud squeal from its snout; the boar fled into the undergrowth, and Roderick followed. The way his feet thudded against the dirt reminded him of his flint from the Kelvic Sei during their first sparring session. He let the memories of that time fuel him, notching an arrow as he ran as fast as he could to catch up to the boar; he somehow loosed mid-run and struck it in the thigh, causing it to squeal again and run even faster. Just barely managing to leap over a log, Roderick let his bow go as he tumbled towards the ground. Tucking over into himself he landed heavily and rolled. Stumbling to his feet; his arrows had scattered around him and preparing a shot would take too long, giving the boar a chance to escape. Angry with his blunder, the hunter drew his flametongue and ran after the boar. When he finally caught up to it the beast had slowed; as he reached it the boar turned toward him, as if realizing he no longer carried the hated weapon that had caused him so much pain. Roderick stepped out of the way of its charge in time to deliver a stab at its neck; he missed, hitting its shoulder and spraying blood everywhere, but the beast slowed. It turned, grunting and snorting furiously, but steadily weakening. He moved in daringly and managed to deliver a stab to its snout, jumping aside to avoid being gored. The beast made a second charge for him, which he avoided more easily this time; it was exhausted from the run, as well as the steady stream of blood flowing downs its sides. Roderick felt his own heart thudding heavily, and not just because he was tired. Adjusting his grip on his weapon, the hunter moved in for a final blow, thrusting his knife between the boars eyes; it crumpled as his knife connected, wrenching the blade from his hands. Roderick watched silently as his quarry twitched and died in front of him, its blood pooling out onto the ground.