Timestamp: Fall 499 AV
"I have a job for you, my son". Jabran's father placed his hand on his son's shoulder. There was a certain gravity to the situation. "Soon you will become a man, with a wife and a family. With obligations and responsibility. With no time for playing and games. It is a long and difficult journey". Jabran's father had never been much good with words. "Grab your spear", he said simply. "You will have need of it".
He crouched low, slowly making his way up the rise. He made careful, deliberate footsteps. If he was to fall he would alert his quarry and his family would go hungry tonight. A voice came to his mind, "feel the wind". He moved south of the goat so it would not smell him. He carried a spear in his left hand and a rock in his right, ready to throw. He was told not to throw the spear. He would not be able to produce the force required to even pierce the goat's hide, let alone kill it. There were two of them. They were huddled around a small pool of water, a precious commodity in the desert. He skirted around behind them so he would be invisible to them. Although being undetectable to a Bowbacked Goat was not entirely necessary, it was good practise for when he had to tackle bigger, stronger and faster prey. As he inched his way closer he looked up a little bit and saw a Tatsuwaat man with a bow half nocked and aimed in the general direction of the goats. Even at this distance Jabran could see him smile. They clearly didn't have much confidence in the young hunter capturing his prey. He was determined to prove them wrong. He knew that he was young but he felt that he could rise to be a man that day.
When he was ten feet away one of the goats raised it's head from the water. Without thinking Jabran threw the rock and moved the spear so that he held it in both hands, ready for a fight. The rock hit the goat on the back and sunk silently into the desert sand. The goat turned and looked at him. Knowing it could not escape anywhere it lowered it's head and threatened to charge. Jabran, still holding the spear in two hands, bent his knees and lowered his body slightly as he had been shown. This would let him put more weight behind his strikes and it would be harder for his opponent to knock him over. Jabran had his eyes locked on the goats as it charged. It lowered it's head just before impact but the hunter just about managed to jump out of the way in time and hit the goats abdomen with the butt of his spear. He was off balance, however, and lost his footing, falling to his knee. Just as he regained his feet, the second had become aware and made for him. Jabran had no time to get out of the way this time and, so, held his spear out firmly in front of himself, putting all the weight that he could behind it, though he was off balance. It wasn't enough and he went sprawling to the floor.
The two goats now turned to face him. They would come together this time. The archer across the way had not moved an inch except for the smile which had faded. His raised himself to one knee, the point of his spear facing out. He noticed that the horns were at the top of his head. If he stayed low they would not be able to touch him. Just before impact he dropped to the ground and pushed his spear forward. It was a blind attack but he felt a weight push against him through the spear. It must have hit. His joy was short lived, however, as the second goat trampled on his shoulder, ripping his skin. He grimaced as he rolled to the side, away from the goat. He could feel the sand entering his wound as he got to his feet. He had no choice but to ignore the pain in his shoulder.
As he stood in the sand he noticed the rock that he had first thrown was only a few feet away. He moved over to it, never taking his eyes off the goat, and picked it up with his uninjured right hand. He used it to coax the goat forward. It bent it's head and charged. As it approached him, Jabran threw the rock, hitting the goat in the face. It pulled up dazed and confused. Jabran had only a few seconds to act. He thrust his spear into the goats neck awkwardly but firmly and it died quickly with a small cry of pain. He removed the spear and the goat toppled to the sand. He was panting heavily and had a pain in his wrist where the first goat had hit him when it charged. Apart from that and the cut he seemed to be unscathed.
Jabran walked over to where the first goat lay. The spear had caught it full on in it's belly but it had not died. It whimpered in pain as it's life slowly faded. Jabran looked into it's sad eyes thought he could feel part of it's pain, he thought he feel a certain connection. He said a silent prayer to Eywaat and Makutsi over it. "You must die so I can live", he muttered. "For that I am truly sorry and grateful". He drove his spear into it's neck to put it out of it's misery as a single tear rolled down his cheek.
As his father and others in his tribe came towards him he moved to the small pool of water and took a drink. Cupping some in his hands he splashed it into his cut. The pain seemed less now that he had looked into the goats eyes. Those sad, lost eyes that told a thousand stories of suffering.
"I have a job for you, my son". Jabran's father placed his hand on his son's shoulder. There was a certain gravity to the situation. "Soon you will become a man, with a wife and a family. With obligations and responsibility. With no time for playing and games. It is a long and difficult journey". Jabran's father had never been much good with words. "Grab your spear", he said simply. "You will have need of it".
***
He crouched low, slowly making his way up the rise. He made careful, deliberate footsteps. If he was to fall he would alert his quarry and his family would go hungry tonight. A voice came to his mind, "feel the wind". He moved south of the goat so it would not smell him. He carried a spear in his left hand and a rock in his right, ready to throw. He was told not to throw the spear. He would not be able to produce the force required to even pierce the goat's hide, let alone kill it. There were two of them. They were huddled around a small pool of water, a precious commodity in the desert. He skirted around behind them so he would be invisible to them. Although being undetectable to a Bowbacked Goat was not entirely necessary, it was good practise for when he had to tackle bigger, stronger and faster prey. As he inched his way closer he looked up a little bit and saw a Tatsuwaat man with a bow half nocked and aimed in the general direction of the goats. Even at this distance Jabran could see him smile. They clearly didn't have much confidence in the young hunter capturing his prey. He was determined to prove them wrong. He knew that he was young but he felt that he could rise to be a man that day.
When he was ten feet away one of the goats raised it's head from the water. Without thinking Jabran threw the rock and moved the spear so that he held it in both hands, ready for a fight. The rock hit the goat on the back and sunk silently into the desert sand. The goat turned and looked at him. Knowing it could not escape anywhere it lowered it's head and threatened to charge. Jabran, still holding the spear in two hands, bent his knees and lowered his body slightly as he had been shown. This would let him put more weight behind his strikes and it would be harder for his opponent to knock him over. Jabran had his eyes locked on the goats as it charged. It lowered it's head just before impact but the hunter just about managed to jump out of the way in time and hit the goats abdomen with the butt of his spear. He was off balance, however, and lost his footing, falling to his knee. Just as he regained his feet, the second had become aware and made for him. Jabran had no time to get out of the way this time and, so, held his spear out firmly in front of himself, putting all the weight that he could behind it, though he was off balance. It wasn't enough and he went sprawling to the floor.
The two goats now turned to face him. They would come together this time. The archer across the way had not moved an inch except for the smile which had faded. His raised himself to one knee, the point of his spear facing out. He noticed that the horns were at the top of his head. If he stayed low they would not be able to touch him. Just before impact he dropped to the ground and pushed his spear forward. It was a blind attack but he felt a weight push against him through the spear. It must have hit. His joy was short lived, however, as the second goat trampled on his shoulder, ripping his skin. He grimaced as he rolled to the side, away from the goat. He could feel the sand entering his wound as he got to his feet. He had no choice but to ignore the pain in his shoulder.
As he stood in the sand he noticed the rock that he had first thrown was only a few feet away. He moved over to it, never taking his eyes off the goat, and picked it up with his uninjured right hand. He used it to coax the goat forward. It bent it's head and charged. As it approached him, Jabran threw the rock, hitting the goat in the face. It pulled up dazed and confused. Jabran had only a few seconds to act. He thrust his spear into the goats neck awkwardly but firmly and it died quickly with a small cry of pain. He removed the spear and the goat toppled to the sand. He was panting heavily and had a pain in his wrist where the first goat had hit him when it charged. Apart from that and the cut he seemed to be unscathed.
Jabran walked over to where the first goat lay. The spear had caught it full on in it's belly but it had not died. It whimpered in pain as it's life slowly faded. Jabran looked into it's sad eyes thought he could feel part of it's pain, he thought he feel a certain connection. He said a silent prayer to Eywaat and Makutsi over it. "You must die so I can live", he muttered. "For that I am truly sorry and grateful". He drove his spear into it's neck to put it out of it's misery as a single tear rolled down his cheek.
As his father and others in his tribe came towards him he moved to the small pool of water and took a drink. Cupping some in his hands he splashed it into his cut. The pain seemed less now that he had looked into the goats eyes. Those sad, lost eyes that told a thousand stories of suffering.
