After collecting up the arrows and returning them to their leather quiver, he turned and set off in the direction of the doe. There wouldn't be a chance that he'd be able to catch it now - however, that didn't mean that he couldn't follow it and eventually collect it again. It'd be a long day hunting it down again and putting an arrow through its throat, but it was meat - adequate to last a few days, and with enough pelt to be sold with the meat, he'd bet on. All he'd need to do would be to follow the general direction that it'd wandered off, and then check for any signs of animal activity along the way. Then follow that back to the doe. Except when he begun trekking down the narrow pathway cleared by the animal, he heard the distinct snarling of what couldn't possibly be a deer. And the further he moved down the track, the less deer tracks that became obvious and the more wolf-like tracks. Heavy paws, occasional scratches.. his meal had been hijacked by a wolf in its flee! But it was the middle of the day, time when the wolves wouldn't usually be wandering around. Night was the best cover, even though most of them weren't nocturnal. And above all, there wasn't a group. Too little tracks around the place. A single paw-print here and there, nothing more. Wolves should have gone in packs, hunted together to take down their prey - he'd never heard of a solitary wolf apart from that illuminated one that had saved his life during a hunting trip. And the tracks were long, too. There had been scuffles, judging by the winding tracks. What had been only five chimes of running became thirty for the Ethaefal carefully tracing through the forest at a brisque walk, with his short-bow hanging in one hand and the other deftly pushing away the low-hanging branches in search of more tracks. But at the end of those thirty, he found something he thought he'd never see. A pool of blood, with crimson prints leading off a short distance away, and a dog with blood coating its jaws, lying dead on the grass. He could skin it for pelt, and actually replace the deer with the thing. But then, it looked to have had a bit of a scuffle with the doe.. and he could take both. A deer and a wolf, all in one. Twice the pelt, twice the meat. But he couldn't leave it here, alone. It could be feasted on by some other predator. Attract Kriital. He didn't want that. The short-bow pushed back over his shoulder, and he leaned down to pick up the downed and dead canine. It was heavy - he'd never actually picked up a wolf before. Usually they were the animals that would pick up his dead body, if he allowed them the opportunity. But he heaved the thing slowly up and over his shoulder, before rising again and dragging it towards the nearest place possible - a small enclave, made from a small cluster of bushes held inside a row of trees - and dumped the canine in there, out of sight. It'd be safe there until he came back, then he could cut both of them up and take them back to the castle for selling on the market. For now, he still had the deer to deal with, and the longer he waited, the more chance predators would come for that too. So at a light jog, he turned and set off after the small trail of splattered blood, bow drawn again and an arrow drawn from his leather quiver this time. |