boring boar
Seasonal
07-02-2022, 04:30 AM
Mitros was on his way back with the stoat in tow, having succeeded in his first solo hunt just days before he would attain independence as a yearling. It was not as impressive a prize as some might strive for, but Mitros was never one to strive for excellence. All his life he'd looked up to the Imperialis name, desperate and driven to earn it and shed the surname of Regni. It would bring honor to his family, they'd look upon him with pride, his mother would watch from somnium with a grin. And then came his reality check in the form of the Pirates, and Mitros was forced to accept that he might never reach those heights. Still, he was proud of his stoat. It was fat and furry, it's blood had begun to pool in his lips, and it was his.
At least he was rather proud of it, until he rounded a corner and came face to face with the ugliest, hairiest mammal he'd ever seen. It was massive, at least 200 pounds of muscle and fat, and sticking out from its nostrils were strands of... grass? He didn't want to think it could be anything else. The creature spooked as quickly as he did, the wolf and boar breaking apart at speed, the sounder stampeding away before Mitros could recalculate and absorb it all. That thing.. would be the coolest prize of all, he decided. tossing his stoat aside for the carrion, he began to circle the indented snow where the grouping had idled.
The tracks were as strange as their ugly faces looking almost like that of a deer, but without the sharp point to the front of the hoof. He had come face to face with the group and estimated a dozen or so were travelling together, but now that he had access to their resting area Mitros assumed it would be smart to confirm it. He tried to count the trails as they split off in fear, but gave up after seven as multiple trails began to overlap each other. The interesting part of what he'd found in the snow however was not a specific number of animals, but the size of one trail in particular. There was a young one with them, one Mitros might have a chance to take down on his own. How it had survived born so late in the year made little sense to the blue Regni boy, but he decided to take it as a sign, and head off with intention to put it out of it's misery before it starve or froze to death.
Tracking this creature through the snow was both easier and harder then the stoat that had been his earlier prize. Where the stoat had nearly floated across the top, the boars broke through and deep into the snow, their trail much easier to see at any distance. However, the stoat had been solitary and it's track quite crisp. These boar moved as one mass in a huddle, crashing over each other's trails until it was more like a river that Mitros was forced to follow. Though follow it he did, with the desire to catch himself a prize worthy of his bloodline at the end of it - and maybe a tusk, if he was lucky.
By the time he had found the sounder once more, the snow had kicked up in a violent rage. This was a benefit to Mitros as much as it was a curse. For one, it did quick work of erasing the intricacies of the trail the boars left behind. A negative, for most tracking, but seeing as he was following an entire herd with snow that came up to their bellies, he did not struggle to infer direction even with the muddled trail. It also made visibility quite poor, which would have been a severe detriment as well had he not have been chasing a dozen creatures, each dark brown to black and with a muscular weight that was hard to miss even through sleet and slow. On the plus side, these advantages worked for him much more then for the boar. He was able to spot them, crouch through their own trail to obscure his own dark coat somewhat, and get close enough to observe the individuals of the herd, all while the sleet and snow put layer and layer of white atop him in his own form of camouflage.
He circled the sounder and watched quietly, his pawsteps drowned out by the frequent squealing of the hogs, until he found the one he'd desired - a small, striped child, idling loudly at the ankles of a female. Mitros knew he needed to be quick, he could not overpower the entire sounder should they choose to fight for the life of their out of season progeny. As it was, the thing was scrawnier then he'd expected, it's fluffy fur spiked with frost and clearly lacking in health.
Mitros sprinted forward before he could convince himself otherwise, grasping the young pig firmly by the ass and whisking it off of the ground in one quick movement. By the time the boars noticed him, he had run too far for them to decide to chase - if they had intended on fighting for it's life at all. He ensured he'd made it far enough without pursuit to be certain of his safety, the squealing thing still flailing in his jaws. Placing it down upon the ground and holding it firmly with a paw, he used his strong jaws to crush it's skull. An ethical kill, an exciting, potentially dangerous adventure, and a sizeable portion of meat to bring home to his cousin. What more could a boy ask for, on the night before his birthday? He collected the carcass and trotted back home, tail held high with pride and a grin on his maw, already anticipating the look upon Tyrfing's face when he arrived back with such a prize.
At least he was rather proud of it, until he rounded a corner and came face to face with the ugliest, hairiest mammal he'd ever seen. It was massive, at least 200 pounds of muscle and fat, and sticking out from its nostrils were strands of... grass? He didn't want to think it could be anything else. The creature spooked as quickly as he did, the wolf and boar breaking apart at speed, the sounder stampeding away before Mitros could recalculate and absorb it all. That thing.. would be the coolest prize of all, he decided. tossing his stoat aside for the carrion, he began to circle the indented snow where the grouping had idled.
The tracks were as strange as their ugly faces looking almost like that of a deer, but without the sharp point to the front of the hoof. He had come face to face with the group and estimated a dozen or so were travelling together, but now that he had access to their resting area Mitros assumed it would be smart to confirm it. He tried to count the trails as they split off in fear, but gave up after seven as multiple trails began to overlap each other. The interesting part of what he'd found in the snow however was not a specific number of animals, but the size of one trail in particular. There was a young one with them, one Mitros might have a chance to take down on his own. How it had survived born so late in the year made little sense to the blue Regni boy, but he decided to take it as a sign, and head off with intention to put it out of it's misery before it starve or froze to death.
Tracking this creature through the snow was both easier and harder then the stoat that had been his earlier prize. Where the stoat had nearly floated across the top, the boars broke through and deep into the snow, their trail much easier to see at any distance. However, the stoat had been solitary and it's track quite crisp. These boar moved as one mass in a huddle, crashing over each other's trails until it was more like a river that Mitros was forced to follow. Though follow it he did, with the desire to catch himself a prize worthy of his bloodline at the end of it - and maybe a tusk, if he was lucky.
By the time he had found the sounder once more, the snow had kicked up in a violent rage. This was a benefit to Mitros as much as it was a curse. For one, it did quick work of erasing the intricacies of the trail the boars left behind. A negative, for most tracking, but seeing as he was following an entire herd with snow that came up to their bellies, he did not struggle to infer direction even with the muddled trail. It also made visibility quite poor, which would have been a severe detriment as well had he not have been chasing a dozen creatures, each dark brown to black and with a muscular weight that was hard to miss even through sleet and slow. On the plus side, these advantages worked for him much more then for the boar. He was able to spot them, crouch through their own trail to obscure his own dark coat somewhat, and get close enough to observe the individuals of the herd, all while the sleet and snow put layer and layer of white atop him in his own form of camouflage.
He circled the sounder and watched quietly, his pawsteps drowned out by the frequent squealing of the hogs, until he found the one he'd desired - a small, striped child, idling loudly at the ankles of a female. Mitros knew he needed to be quick, he could not overpower the entire sounder should they choose to fight for the life of their out of season progeny. As it was, the thing was scrawnier then he'd expected, it's fluffy fur spiked with frost and clearly lacking in health.
Mitros sprinted forward before he could convince himself otherwise, grasping the young pig firmly by the ass and whisking it off of the ground in one quick movement. By the time the boars noticed him, he had run too far for them to decide to chase - if they had intended on fighting for it's life at all. He ensured he'd made it far enough without pursuit to be certain of his safety, the squealing thing still flailing in his jaws. Placing it down upon the ground and holding it firmly with a paw, he used his strong jaws to crush it's skull. An ethical kill, an exciting, potentially dangerous adventure, and a sizeable portion of meat to bring home to his cousin. What more could a boy ask for, on the night before his birthday? He collected the carcass and trotted back home, tail held high with pride and a grin on his maw, already anticipating the look upon Tyrfing's face when he arrived back with such a prize.