Drifting rays of sunlight shot through the heavy foliage; the forest calm and dim. The morning frost made the grass stiff under the url's hooves, and small puffs of fogs flared from his nostrils.
Beneath the wolf's skull, Einherjar sampled the air on his tongue — he was certain of the taste of the Northern Moose. It gave off an acrid musk; albeit pungent, it was not noticeable amongst the different scents in the forest. With the ever-elusive cloven tracks here-and-there, he followed the trail for his game.
The url traced his fingers round the edges of the hoof imprints; they were as big as his palms. He gave off a rather nasty smirk, one full of sharp teeth.
"Big."
Bovëen knew that it was at least eight feet, feeling rather impressed that it's lived for so long. It would be a large catch today, however a creature that size would only last him a couple of days before he devoured it. Salivating, he yearned for its flesh.
Wildlife had grown more and more scarce since the Bone Horror Crisis. The frozen-flesh-and-bone atrocities deterred many who sought to hunt, all the while helping the moose more than it hinders them. Einherjar closed his wispy orange eyes, shutting out all the sounds within the forest of its babbling streams and chirping birds.
He could feel it; the moose was nearby.
The url bounded through the forest he had grown to know too well. Many winters he had spent here in the forests of Ellador and many he spent hunting. He had met many like him: in search of worthy hunts. How long had it been though? Ten, perhaps twenty winters even. The exact numbers were but a blur within Einherhar's mind.
He knew every rock, every stream. He knew the familiar gnarled and knotted roots growing near; even the shrub with bell flowers of purple to orange hues where ogres gathered. Einherjar remained here, honing his skills, a humble testament to himself.
He found the moose drinking from a stream, unconscious of his presence as he crouched a couple yards away. A breeze carried the scent of the moose towards him — ah, no doubt it was the same one he's been after. Strands of brown hair fluttered in the wind's caress, the url downwind from the creature. He got in even closer, wary to not be noticed.
On a slow inhale, Einherjar reeled his knees, his butt sticking out similar to a squat.
He kicked off explosively on his rear leg, propelling himself forward, horns charging in.
By then, the animal straightened, it's large beady eyes not seeing the imminent danger. Einherjar's figure burst from the foliage with a howl of rage, his heart pounding.
The poor moose released a wail of pain as it was wrestled by the hulking mass of the url. An ax in hand, he brought it down hard on the moose's skull. Blood exploded from the creature's face as it dyed his skull red.
He roared as he brought the ax down again, and again. The sound of bone crunching wetly under the sheer force would make anyone there shudder.
In a matter of moments, the moose grew limp under the url. Einherjar remained crouched over the animal, sitting astride the its chest. His chest was heaving as he panted.
The url's eyes shifted from the corpse. A sunset-orange iris stared at the sky. The ferocity that was burning through the url deflated as his eyes lulled.
"Praise Basht'r, given this one a good hunt."
Beneath the wolf's skull, Einherjar sampled the air on his tongue — he was certain of the taste of the Northern Moose. It gave off an acrid musk; albeit pungent, it was not noticeable amongst the different scents in the forest. With the ever-elusive cloven tracks here-and-there, he followed the trail for his game.
The url traced his fingers round the edges of the hoof imprints; they were as big as his palms. He gave off a rather nasty smirk, one full of sharp teeth.
"Big."
Bovëen knew that it was at least eight feet, feeling rather impressed that it's lived for so long. It would be a large catch today, however a creature that size would only last him a couple of days before he devoured it. Salivating, he yearned for its flesh.
Wildlife had grown more and more scarce since the Bone Horror Crisis. The frozen-flesh-and-bone atrocities deterred many who sought to hunt, all the while helping the moose more than it hinders them. Einherjar closed his wispy orange eyes, shutting out all the sounds within the forest of its babbling streams and chirping birds.
He could feel it; the moose was nearby.
The url bounded through the forest he had grown to know too well. Many winters he had spent here in the forests of Ellador and many he spent hunting. He had met many like him: in search of worthy hunts. How long had it been though? Ten, perhaps twenty winters even. The exact numbers were but a blur within Einherhar's mind.
He knew every rock, every stream. He knew the familiar gnarled and knotted roots growing near; even the shrub with bell flowers of purple to orange hues where ogres gathered. Einherjar remained here, honing his skills, a humble testament to himself.
He found the moose drinking from a stream, unconscious of his presence as he crouched a couple yards away. A breeze carried the scent of the moose towards him — ah, no doubt it was the same one he's been after. Strands of brown hair fluttered in the wind's caress, the url downwind from the creature. He got in even closer, wary to not be noticed.
On a slow inhale, Einherjar reeled his knees, his butt sticking out similar to a squat.
He kicked off explosively on his rear leg, propelling himself forward, horns charging in.
By then, the animal straightened, it's large beady eyes not seeing the imminent danger. Einherjar's figure burst from the foliage with a howl of rage, his heart pounding.
The poor moose released a wail of pain as it was wrestled by the hulking mass of the url. An ax in hand, he brought it down hard on the moose's skull. Blood exploded from the creature's face as it dyed his skull red.
He roared as he brought the ax down again, and again. The sound of bone crunching wetly under the sheer force would make anyone there shudder.
In a matter of moments, the moose grew limp under the url. Einherjar remained crouched over the animal, sitting astride the its chest. His chest was heaving as he panted.
The url's eyes shifted from the corpse. A sunset-orange iris stared at the sky. The ferocity that was burning through the url deflated as his eyes lulled.
"Praise Basht'r, given this one a good hunt."
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