October 5, 2003
A group of elves leave the holt to go hunting, but they are not the only hunters in the forest. There is a very thin line seperating hunter and hunted, and sometimes it's hard to tell which side of that line you are on.
The sun was just setting as Snowspear came out of her den. A cool evening breeze was blowing and there was a hint of possible rain in the air. She descended her denning tree and reached the ground just as Chieftess Wildstar walked by. The two women nodded a quick greeting to one another and continued in opposite directions.
By the time the daystar had disappeared from view completely, Snowspear had gathered a small hunting party consisting of Rock, Dirk, Mystic, Halfkin, Lonewolf and herself. Snowspear and Lonewolf traveled on foot, the others on wolf back.
"Mystic, ride ahead. Find us a track." The order was short and to the point as always. Mystic acknowledged it with a nod and rode off.
It didn't take long for the young tracker to return with news of multiple deer tracks. **There's at least one hand of them and they're close. The tracks are fresh,** he reported.
**Lead the way, Mystic.**
No sooner had Snowspear given the order than the group left the well marked trail and followed the tracker through the undergrowth. Even though the undergrowth was rather dense, they moved soundlessly though it. Soon they came to a small clearing completely covered with deer tracks.
**Looks like they scattered,** Mystic sent.
**Something must have spooked them,** Dirk added.
**Tuft cat,** Halfkin informed them, scenting the air.
Kneeling down at the far end of the clearing to examine some tracks more closely, Lonewolf confirmed what Halfkin had already told them.
**It's a tuft cat all right. Headed off in that direction, chasing a deer.**
The Hunt Leader squatted beside him. **Leave it, Lonewolf,** she sent privately to him before addressing the whole group. **We're not hunting tuft cat tonight. We'll track down the deer that went in the other direction. Stay alert, the cat might decide to double back this way.**
The hunting party followed the tracks of two adult deer. Being skilled and experienced in tracking and hunting, it didn't take them long to catch up with their prey. Spreading out in a wide semi circle they closed in on the unsuspecting deer. Every elf felt it; that tingling rush, that feeling they all knew so well - the thrill of the hunt. Regardless of what tactics they used, they all felt it when they closed in on their prey.
Dirk moved her favourite throwing dagger from one hand to the other, weighing it in her hand, obtaining the best grip for an optimal throw.
Mystic flexed the string on his bow and knocked an arrow.
Halfkin tightened his grip on his javelin.
Lonewolf knocked an arrow and held a second one ready in his hand. Rock, too, had an arrow ready.
Snowspear raised her spear and drew back her arm, ready to throw.
The group closed in on the deer. Slowly and without a sound they inched closer and closer until they dared go no further.
**Dirk, Mystic, Halfkin - left one. Lonewolf, Rock and I - right one. On my count. One… Two… THREE!**
Arrows flew, daggers were thrown and spears hurled. One heartbeat later six elves and four wolves charged. The deer never knew what hit them. Both kills were quick and clean. No suffering was experienced.
They weren't big animals, but the deer would be a welcome addition to the Holt's food supply. The hunters worked quickly, securing their prize to the backs of their wolves. They knew that a large predator was somewhere close by. As soon as the kills were strapped to the wolves, the hunting party headed back to the Holt.
Almost halfway back to the Holt Lonewolf caught the scent of the tuft cat. He alerted the others, and they all held their weapons at the ready while continuing towards the Holt. The large cat was slowly but surely circling them and would soon be downwind, which would make it harder to detect. It hunted by scent as much as by sight and the smell of the hunting party's fresh kills was as attractive to it as a female in heat.
The elves moved closer together, hoping to give the impression of being one large creature. They made sure to keep themselves between the kills and the stalking predator. Dirk gripped her daggers hard enough to make her knuckles turn white. Lonewolf's eyes darted back and forth, trying to catch a glimpse of the big cat.
The trek towards the Holt was a nervous one. Now that the tuft cat was downwind they could no longer pinpoint its location. Only the faint sounds of a twig breaking or a ravvit fleeing the oncoming danger told them that it was still out there, stalking them, biding its time.
**We can't allow it to follow us all the way to the holt,** Snowspear sent. **Halfkin. Lonewolf.** There was no need for further instructions. Both the named hunters knew what to do. Silently they broke away from the group.
Carefully Halfkin and Lonewolf approached the area where they thought the tuft cat to be, weapons ready and all senses on full alert. No communication was needed, they had hunted together plenty of times over the centuries. Their plan was simple: to do what the cat had done - circle around it and strike from downwind.
Halfkin picked up the scent first. They had misjudged its position.
**Behind us!**
The elves spun around just as the cat gathered up speed to pounce. They both dodged, Halfkin going one way and Lonewolf the other. The large cat seamed to turn around and change direction before it even had its paws back on the ground and pounced again, towards Halfkin this time. A snarling sound escaped the throwback as he rolled out of the way. He was back on his feet before the cat had time for a third attack. Both elves charged. Sounds that could only be described as growls coming from both of them.
A sword, a javelin and two large, clawed paws began a fierce duel. Lonewolf drew first blood as his blade struck the beast's right shoulder. The cat retaliated with its left paw, giving Halfkin opportunity to strike at its chest. Both paw and javelin hit their marks. Lonewolf let out a grunt of pain when the claws tore through the flesh of his arm. The tuft cat roared as Halfkin puller his weapon from its chest for another strike.
The cat pounced toward Halfkin again. Lonewolf leapt to intercept. Halfkin stood his ground and thrust his javelin at the pouncing cat. It sunk deep in the beast's chest, penetrating the heart just as Lonewolf's sword sunk equally deep into its neck. The large cat's body hit Halfkin with full force, knocking him down and pinning him to the ground.
Dirk and Rock arrived with their weapons drawn just as Lonewolf managed to roll the tuft cat off Halfkin. A litter was quickly constructed and they summoned the rest of the group and the wolves to transport the new kill back to the Holt too.
Not only would the tribe eat well tonight, but the hunting party would also have a good story to share.