more than i can chew

The last season had been a whirlwind of emotions for the Valentine girl, and one of the hardest parts of all was to leave her family behind back in Valhalla while she set off on her own. She'd remained in the safety of the moor long enough to catch up and really let it sink in that they were safe, but as the season changed Aryn felt she had more to do to prove to herself she belonged there with them. She'd let herself get lost in her dreams for too long and spent very little time working real skills. Living in safety with her family would only allow her to fall behind further to the illusion of security.

The hardest part she'd found so far was feeding herself. Life as a rogue was hard, but Aryn always enjoyed navigating the world and finding clean and clear water was a million times easier then catching live animals and killing them. Even with Tyrian's lessons she struggled, though she kept with her at all times dozens of doses of anti-nausea medication to keep herself in hunting shape. The rabbits, deer and elk would not take pity on her for her weak stomach while she was chasing them down to kill them.

She'd not anticipated how much harder game would be to find as the leaves began to fall and migration began. Aryn wandered for days, cursing her much-too-loud stomach rumbles for scaring away the non-existant prey. She knew that if she was on the brink of starvation she could return to Valhalla and surely the Spirit would be kind enough to feed her, but Aryn had taken this leave of absence to grow up and learn. Returning to her family for care was not learning.

When she eventually found a lone trail her stomach's angry grumbles of protest grew, her mouth watering in anticipation. Aryn knew it to be an elk, a creature much larger than anything she'd ever hunted before. The doubt grew in her chest, though her hunger pressed her forward with her nose to the ground. It was moving fast, likely on the lookout for a warmer territory to spend the winter in. Aryn continued on after the scent trail until she knew she was close, squirming into a nearby bush and slowly working her way forward until the tip of her nose poked out from the foliage to observe.

The elk had stopped for water, and as it bowed his head to drink she realized it was the biggest creature she'd ever seen. It would have been an intimidating fight even without the massive rack upon it's head, and for a moment Aryn considered abandoning the hunt in lieu of something smaller. It was then that her stomach grumbled once more and she gulped, shutting her eyes and willing herself out of the bush towards it.

Willing herself forward wasn't doing much, and after several minutes she found her feet were still glued solidly to the earth. It wasn't until the elk lifted it's head and turned to leave that she found the courage to move - the terror of another lost meal washing away whatever doubt had kept her frozen. Aryn leaped from the bush with a snarl, her movements somewhat uncoordinated and clearly projecting her ineptitude as she tried to cut off the elk's path of escape.

The creature reared up in anger, bellowing out a threat towards the wolf who should have stood down, but was too hungry to let the prey go. It's hooves struck out towards her, catching her upon the side of her head. Aryn felt herself hit the ground, her herbs spilling out from her pouch as she tumbled. The elk was still trying to ward her off and stomped towards her ready to strike again. She managed her way to her feet, barely skittering her way out from beneath it's hooves and striking out with her teeth towards it's rear legs. Her lack of confidence was influencing every moment she made, and her bite was too slow and uncertain to hit it's mark. The elk spun and lowered it's head, ramming it's antlers in her direction.

Aryn was frozen by fear, unable to find a direction to move to avoid the deadly rack. The antlers caught her beneath the belly and threw her, though thankfully none of the sharp tips managed to puncture through. She rolled again, her ears pulling back in terror as she stared wide-eyed up at the beast. It came for her once more, rearing up to slam it's hooves upon her when her adrenaline surged. She made it to her feet and spun, sprinting away from the elk as fast as she could and into a hollow log to hide.

She waited within the log for what felt like hours, her chest rising and falling heavily with every panicked breath she took. As the adrenaline began to wear off the pain returned. At one point in time she'd wanted to be a healer, and though she didn't get far with her learning she knew enough to realize she was injured. Her ribs might have been only bruised, though they may have been fractured. She hardly remembered the blow to her head until blood began to trickle down into her eyelashes. Whether it was the sight of her own blood, her injuries, her hunger, or her exhaustion Aryn didn't know, but her vision suddenly grew darker until she finally lost consciousness.

WORD COUNT: 914