Vidar had hunted those blasted humans for years now, and even though he had had a few close calls, he had survived each encounter so far. The life of a huntsman was not a glorious nor a very long one, but it had been the life he had chosen; he was an athalwolf after all, and that was enough to shorten his lifespan alone. Lately his trade as a huntsman had become more sought after and tonight, he was hunting in to the forest near the Old Grove and he could already hear the terrifying hums of his next target and no matter how many times Vidar had heard it, it always sent chills down his spine covered by dark brown fur.
The ground was still humid from the heavy rain, which had drenched the land a few nights prior. The rain had left a rather pleasant scent in Vidar’s snout, one he breathed in order to savor it, for soon it would be displaced by other smells, something far more unpalatable than a mere rotting meat. Vidar’s unscarred yellow eye glowed in the dark as he followed the humming sound, seeing the prints left behind by the human who was looking for its next victim. With each step he took, he could feel this certain kind of sensation, only felt by being in the presence of a human, lingering just behind his eyes. It was like a pair of scissors were closing on the red line, some might call a soul, readying itself to snap it if Vidar was to make any mistakes. He took the talisman hanging on his wrist into his palm and said a silent prayer for the Gods, who would not hear them, and drew his bow.
Vidar could see a shadow slouching in the darkness closing on a nearby tree and he stretched his bowstring, readying himself to take the shot as his breathing turned into visible vapor in the cold evening air. He would get only one shot and one shot only.
THUCK
The shadow turned to Vidar when his arrow impaled its left shoulder blade, pinning it to the tree, still continually humming its strange tone when Vidar dared to step closer and dust the lunging carcass with flashpowder, it wanted to rip him into pieces, slash his throat and eat whatever was left of the athalwolf once it was done with the carnage, but to Vidar’s good fortune, his aim had been true and the tree held the monster in place as he lit a small flame and threw it at the creature who turned into a flash of blue flame in seconds. Vidar could feel the heat of his flame on his fur, but the flames did not burn the tree behind the creature nor the ground beneath its writhing feet; it only touched its flesh, and soon the flames died out, leaving only ash in its wake.
“Good job,” said the voice behind Vidar, and he turned around instantly to face the other athalwolf behind him.
“We got lucky it was alone,” Vidar answered and spit in the direction of the ashes and added “May the Gods carry you back to your kin,” before walking over to Stendar, an athalwolf like him and a cleaner reflection of his facial features. Stendar walked past him and crouched over the still-smoking embers of the creature with a mask covering his face, and collected some of its ashes into a small vial with strange fluid on it. When the ashes touched the fluid, it turned bright, illuminating his covered hand with its red light before Stendar put it into a small cotton pouch and fastened it onto his belt.
“Next one’s on me then,” Stendar laughed with a disgusted grin on his face once he removed his mask and purified the hand he had used to collect the ashes, “I got us a lodging at the Old Wood and they promised a dinner once we arrived.”
“Old Wood of Old Grove? Sounds like a joke,” Vidar grunted and Stendar let out a muffled chuckle, “The way these people have had to deal with these monsters lately, I think they are allowed to have some fun too.” Stendar joined his brother as they began to make their way from the forest, something did not feel right to Vidar, but things never did, so he shrugged off the feeling while keeping his guard up.
“Remember the one we went to about two months ago, what was its name? It was very funny,” Stendar said, trying to ease the mood surrounding the two, he had known his brother far longer than they had been alive and could read him like a book, as Vidar read him.
“The Bouncing Lady…” Vidar replied, looking over his shoulder.
“No, that’s close, but not it,” Stendar added, “It was something bouncing… Pony? No… But something…” There was a short pause when Stendar tried to think of the name, when suddenly he yelled, “The Bouncing Maiden!” His words echoed in the woods, and Vidar had to snarl at him, “Silence, there could still be more around!”
Stendar laughed again, “Relax, you might feel some nearby, but I can’t, which means we either got them all or there are still some under the ground, either way, it doesn’t matter since they can’t claw their way-…” Stendar’s words got interrupted when he stumbled on a root protruding from the ground, followed by his loud screech, and he fell face first to the muddy ground, a sight which made Vidar finally smile and laugh out loud, “Hah! Serves you better than those maidens at the Bouncing Maiden!”
Stendar got up and brushed his armor from the twigs and mud with shame on his face, he kicked the tree root which had offended his pride, “Shut it… You know I might as well get me another bouncing maiden tonight,” he stuttered back at his mocking twin. Vidar patted his brother’s back and laughed again, “I’m sure they will be dropping their petticoats as soon as they hear about your bravery against a tree root.” Vidar’s words made Stendar smile a bit, and soon he couldn’t help but laugh with him too.
Athalwolf or a huntsman, it did not matter; their lives were short, but even Vidar could appreciate the short moments of joy he shared with his brother, and together they made their way towards the Old Wood inn.
✥
The town near the Old Grove was called Narra, and like many such towns, it didn’t have much to write home about. It might once have been a bustling center of the region, but right now, the fear of humans had driven many away, and the empty houses stood still in the bitter wind, rotting away like those who had scared their inhabitants away. The ones who had stayed were old, like it usually was, those who refused to leave their homes they had built a long time ago with their bare hands. To them, there was no life anywhere else, and leaving would mean admitting defeat, one where their pride would be eternally stained by if they dared to leave, no matter how hard things got, and the two athalwolves could respect that. Leaving the familiar for the unknown was not something that should be done on an impulse, and leaving could mean death either way due to how the world worked nowadays.
The Old Wood inn offered them shelter and warmth from the freezing winds outside, and they both were pleased to see the owners had kept their promises of the old, allowing them to dine and rest without pay as was the arrangement made for the huntsman a long time ago. Some innkeepers, especially young ones, were usually after their gold or shekels and did not respect the old ways even though the things coming from the underground kept them on their claws, “A reminder that the world has gone to shits,” Stendar had once said, “Now everyone’s out for themselves because of the war or the famine, not respecting the old deeds like they should. We’re risking our very lives for them, and giving us some mead would be the least they could do.” And Vidar had to remind him that they were also athalwolves, not just huntsmen and that came with its own set of prejudices, if the people had known they were also relatives, although very distant ones, to the king who was the reason for the famine, they would have been either chased away immediately from every town in the region or hanged just for their blood which usually shut Stendar’s snout for good. They would always be partly blamed for the crimes their kin did, and as such, they had to keep their heads down, but the things their status as huntsmen gave usually overcame the price they paid as athalwolves.
In the warmth of the fireplace, Stendar had already found himself an older wench to snuggle against while Vidar enjoyed his mead, it was just the right amount of sweet and spicy, one which filled a wolf’s soul with cozy warmness and that could only be found in small towns like this one. The elchen woman in Stendar’s lap giggled when he told her sweet nothings and tall tales of their adventures, which, to be honest, were mostly true. They had seen much together, some not even the most decorated soldiers had faced, but it came with being a huntsman and as such could never be expected to happen to other thaunon.
The innkeeper was a jolly old bera, a bear-like thaunon, with a large belly and a wide smile, almost a caricature in itself, nevertheless a welcome one when compared to the men and women who did not want to serve wolves, especially athal ones.
Vidar’s weary ears could still overhear the conversation his brother was having with his woman, “Ah! Yes, we’re heading there tomorrow morning, in fact, you know? To close the nest and we might not survive it, we’ve heard there is a large group of them holed up in there, and we need to plunge ourselves into their caverns to make sure they will not get out anymore!” Stendar exclaimed and although Vidar knew it was a way for him to get the lady into his bed, he wasn’t lying to her and Stendar’s plan usually worked, he would boast about their upcoming death and the women fell into his feet, begging to be laid by him in order to provide some comfort for the dying hero, but in a way it also worked for his mates, they would get the bragging rights for having slept with an huntsman and Stendar and Vidar seldom visited their old hunting grounds ever again.
“What about your brother? Does he need… a friend? I could get my pal to ease his stress…” The elchen woman said while looking at Vidar and Stendar let out a booming laugh, “Only if your friend has a cock, he’s not into the more alluring folk, but if you want to, I could use another friend too!” Stendar beamed, and the woman in his arms did not know whether to be offended or pleased by Stendar’s idea. Their conversation was then drowned by the crackling of the wood and embers coming from the fireplace as the mead in Vidar’s veins began to work its little magic and lull him into a calmer mood. He watched as the flames danced before him, magic of its own kind to him, and the jolly innkeeper brought him some freshly roasted meat and vegetables farmed in the sour land of Narra.
“You have a big day ahead of you tomorrow, it takes almost the whole day to travel where you two are going and you will need your strength after” the bera said and Vidar thanked him, also taking the plate made for his brother from the tray, “He will be not needing that, he will have his mouth full soon enough,” Vidar snided and glanced at the pair laughing to each other. The innkeeper nodded and returned to his post, which he had to have held for many years now. Vidar imagined the dark wood behind the scratched counter and how there must now be a path left by the multiple hours of hard work and strain, lighter than the wood around it and slightly dipped below the original level of the flooring. Had life offered him a different path, Vidar thought he might have become an innkeeper himself; it was honest work, and places like this were usually the heart of the town or a village, sometimes even the city. One could easily hear rumours or find work in the inn, and Vidar had noticed that the further the inn was from civilization, the more welcoming they usually were, with some caveats, of course.
While Vidar was lost in his thoughts and the mead, Stendar came over to him and patted his right shoulder, “I’ll be staying in her place tonight, see you in the morning,” he laughed and grabbed his lady into his arms, waving goodbye to his brother.
“Alright,” Vidar grunted back and shouted “Don’t be making any pups now!” Stendar did not answer to his amused comment, but raised his ring finger as the sign of his detestation, which made Vidar chuckle a bit again.
As the night went on, Vidar enjoyed his mead and his lunch in peace, bathing in the warm coziness as he sat next to the fireplace. Little by little more thaunon came into the tavern to rest after a long day of work and almost all were interested in the silent athalwolf, when the word got out he was a huntsman, even more people came in and some even offered to buy him either dinner or more drink, which Vidar respectfully denied. Right now, he had had enough, and the long day in the forest, the sane fear running in his veins, had taken its toll on him. He climbed the stairs up to his room in a drunken stupor; he did not expect to have after such a few drinks, and fell asleep on a mattress filled with old hay.
✥
The athalwolf woke up in the middle of the night, his dark fur drenched in his sweat as the dreaming muffled his horrified screams. Vidar clawed at the sheets covering his trembling body and realized the low hums he had heard were just a nightmare, even thought for a moment he could have sworn he was still hearing them when he woke up, but when he perked up his furry ears there was nothing but the sounds of the revelers coming from the down stairs. The walls of the old inn creaked as the strong gust of wind hit against it, and Vidar leaned back against his rough pillow, holding his head with one hand and trying to calm down his breathing. It was the price he had to pay as a huntsman, dreaming about the humans he had burned.
Vidar had once heard someone say it was because burning them was not enough; it just released their souls into the world, and to avenge their wrongful death in the claws of the huntsmen, they would haunt them for the rest of their short lives. Stendar had immediately shut such words down, claiming they were doing the Gods’ work, that they were saving innocent lives, that those things were a threat, and even though that was the truth Vidar had come to live by, he was still unsure if he completely believed it. He thought about how a long time ago, some thaunon had tried to heal the humans, to make them more like they were thought to be, only to be slain by the ones they were trying to save. The age of humans had passed a long time ago, and the things lurking in the darkest corners and the deepest of the depths were nothing like the people who had built large towers and vast cities now buried by age.
The mead inside Vidar was still warming him, promising him it was okay to fall back to sleep and that there would be no more horrifying dreams to be had that night. The athalwolf wanted to believe its alluring call, to dream about something else, but in his deepest of hearts, he knew that would not be true, the nightmares might not come tonight, but they would always hide right behind his ears, ready to pounce back into his sleeping mind when given a chance.
Behind the closed doors of an elchen woman’s home, things were much different than in the sweat-drenched bed Vidar shared only with his fears, although sweat was spilled in her bed too. Stendar’s plan had worked, and he was now being pleased by two women, one elchen and the other rather fox-like räv. The wine in their veins made things easier, and all three were enjoying each other’s company as nude as children, yet performing deeds not suitable for the young eyes. Unlike Vidar, Stendar had learned how to keep his dreams in control, and it usually meant drinking until he would pass out. In that helpless state, he had no dreams which suited him just fine since he could easily find dreams in the waking world, ones like he was having right now.
Their bodies twisted together as each one pleased someone else, lost in the thirst for a little bit of comfort in the darkening night, and one by one reaching the high they sought, falling asleep in the bed far too small for three adults. Stendar slept on the side, holding the räv woman in a tight hug while she, in turn, held her friend. Stendar buried his dark snout into the orange fur, taking in the soft scent of her current lover and drifting into his dreamless world brought by the alcohol he had drunk that night, almost hearing the low humming sound coming towards them from the distant woods he and his brother had left earlier that night, following the same dirt path leading to the town of Narra as they had.
