Let's Kill Stuff, Boys!

The cold of winter wasn't as bad as the hot, humid summer months, but Merrick still didn't like it. Give him eternal autumn and he'd be happy. Well, happy about the weather at least. It was doubtful that the plum and shadow man would ever be truly happy. He found too much wrong with the world. He wouldn't be satisfied until he was an Emperor with women fawning all over him nonstop. That was what he deserved, truly. For now he had Keelin and that was surprisingly enough. The woman had grown on him considerably. Freedom from the ship had done wonders for her personality. She was still obedient and compliant to his wishes, but she had blossomed somehow. As such, Merrick had been in a much better mood lately. At least as far as he went. He was still brusque and disagreeable, but he'd been in a decent enough mood to offer taking two of the younger pack wolves, one his nephew, out for a bit of a winter hunt.

The trio of dire brutes made their way out of Elysium territory and up into the northern reaches of the continent. Merrick was intent on taking the boys on a bit of an adventure, so hunting close to home wouldn't quite cut it. They'd be out in the elements for a few days and the hulking brute carted a decent sized sledge along behind him. How else would they be able to drag all of the meat back home? If things went according to plan, they'd be dragging either a fat elk or a bison back to fill the stores. With the three of them, it should have been a piece of cake. Though the other two were younger, their size and determination should make up for lack of experience.

Merrick had led the boys to a long stretch of tundra spattered with pines. The minuscule trees provided a little bit of protection against the blowing elements, but they did little else. Still, herbivores frequented this place and already Merrick could smell the acrid stench of plant eaters on the chill wind. The scarred man shrugged out of the sleighs harness and shook out his thick, winter coat. With a pull of his shoulder, he motioned for the boys to follow.

Together, the trio made their way up a natural game path that stretched through the pines. The further they moved into the wood, the thicker the scent of prey. After casting the boys a look of caution, Merrick crouched and used the low hanging branches of a snow covered pine for camouflage.  Gingerly, he peered out of his hiding place, mismatched eyes looking over a smallish clearing at a herd of bison. It was a small cell. Five adults and a few adolescents. A decent enough group for an attack. There was a fatter cow towards the back of the group with healing gouge marks across her haunches. She'd escaped death once, but she wouldn't escape it again. The wounds would make her slower than the rest, which would work out in their favor. Silently, Merrick indicated their target to the boys, then back out from beneath the pine.

Backtracking a bit, Merrick led them out behind the herd. It would be easy. They would all give chase and run the injured cow into the ground. The kill would be made by whoever managed to get in there. He only hoped that the boys were smart enough to not get kicked by the flailing hooves of the beast. Merrick knew the damage that a bison could render and he wouldn't like to deliver the news to the mother of either boy that their child was brained while hunting with him.

With a nod to the pair, Merrick indicated that the time had come. Powerful muscles bunched and a moment later the purple and black behemoth was flying through the air. Wide, taloned paws crunched into the snow upon landing, digging in to give purchase so that he could rocket after their prey. Already the herd was scattering. They knew the dangers of wolves all too well. Here and there a bison would splinter off from the group, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was the injured cow. Their intended target. She was slow, but she was still large and powerful. As she tried to follow a group of other bison, Merrick snapped at her to keep her in line. The cow kicked out at him with a hind hoof, narrowly missing the wolf's face. The brute's eyes went wide and he chuckled, lips pulling back in a grin. Who didn't like a little danger when hunting?

As the wolves ran their prey, the cow began to slow. She stumbled in some deeper snow and that was their chance. With a push of speed, Merrick launched himself from the ground. Talons latched into the fatty hump of the bison and his teeth soon followed. The brute used his weight to pull the stumbling cow to the side and she crashed hard into the snow on one shoulder, hooves flailing. The momentum of the fall sent the purple giant sailing, but he landed mostly upon his paws. Unhurt, the brute rushed back into the fray, biting into the side of the bison's neck just below the jaw. It took ever ounce of strength to hold onto the cow as she struggled for life, but it wasn't to be. Eventually the might of the three brutes became too much and the life ebbed away. Blood puddled in the white snow and Merrick soon released his prey. The man stepped back, sinking to his haunches, tongue lolling. Steam rolled out of the cavern of his maw with every breath. "Well done, lads." He complimented the young wolves. They'd each done their part to bring down and kill the bison. Their mothers would be proud.

They would have to retrieve the sledge so that they could drag the processed meat back to the pack. The skin would prove quite useful for the cold winter nights to come. He wouldn't be the one processing it since he hated that sort of thing, but he'd leave it there for someone else to deal with. Or he'd make Keelin figure it out. Either way, he was claiming the skin for himself this time. As the trio caught their breath, a breeze brought the scent of bear with it. In the distance, the low moaning of a grizzly could be heard. It seemed to be coming their way. That was just great... Merrick loved bears. Not.

WC-1100/3500

"Merrick Mendacium"