Part III
43 Fall, 515 AV
8th Bell, Morning
Sea of Grass
8th Bell, Morning
Sea of Grass
Dravite hadn't managed to get any sleep and the relentless woofing sound the lion continued to boom all night had left the man with a terrible headache. His shoulder and hip hurt from sitting up in the uncomfortable tree the last six hours gone, and he saw little hope of getting out of his current predicament with the large night lion sitting guard. Twice the lion had circled back to try and attack him up in the tree and twice Dravite had managed to draw blood on the end of his spear.
His legs and arms were stiff and he was startling to lose feeling in his right foot, which sat planted against his hatchet where he had placed the weapon as a footing hold. Dravite leaned back in order to wriggle his foot and try and chase the strange numbing sensation from his heel and toes, but quickly refrained from this when he heard the tree groan under his weight, knowing its slim branches were not made for supporting a grown man long. "You're not going to kill me!" The man hissed at the lion and took his dagger from his belt to hurl at the seated beast.
To his surprise the dagger found flesh, buried in the animal's hindquarters, just below the hip. The large male lion turned on himself, attacking the dagger in an attempt to work it free. Dravite took this opportunity to climb down from the tree with spear in hand and lined up a shot close range which, with one commanding thrust, saw his weapon buried deeply within the animal's chest cavity. Again the lion made to attack and Dravite's plan was swiftly executed, allowing the lion to run him backwards into the tree where he planted the end of his spear and let the powerful beast lunge himself upon it.
The night lion's claws brushed the man's arms and thighs and his teeth lay bare, snapping angrily at his killer as his life slowly fled him. Dravite sunk down against the trunk of the tree, speechless, breathless, and full of adrenaline that caused his heart to thump like a drum in his chest. Up close the lion was a fearsome sight to behold, his fur scarred and weathered, his face dotted with ticks and grazes; the fur stained with the blood of his last meal. The horse lord took his weapons from the beast and picked up his water skin to drink deeply from, the liquid providing some relief to his cracked lips.
Dravite, still alive with fright, took his dagger and opened he beast's belly with it to make sure the lion would not reanimate any time soon, "blood for blood, life for death," he thanked the goddess Caiyha for the life of another animal that would provide meat for his family to dry and store for the winter before he sat down in the tall grass and went in search of his missing animals.
Inside the web, Dravite forged a course home where he found Cree and Vicious had returned without him. Roan was there in the web to greet him and the two spoke for a brief time.
"Still alive, watchman?"
"Just," Dravite told him, "it was a rough night."
"Your wives are not very happy with you."
"I know," he admitted, "tell them not to threat, I am fine and the other lion is now dead."
"What!" Roan said, surprised, "how?"
"I stopped hunting him and in the end he found me," Dravite told the boy.
"When can we expect you back?"
"Soon," he promised, "but first I need to find Grim."
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