Smoke n' Fire [Hunting Prompt]

He crashed into the side of the deer with a grunt, knocking the small yearling over and pinning it flat as he slashed into its throat with his sabers. An hour later he’d skinned out and processed the meat, tossing slivers to Lyr. Ardyn pulled up his pouches, tucked away at this tree to keep them out of the way in his hunt. He’d had to drag the deer all the way here to skin and portion it out.

He cleared the snow off a ring of stones and pulled several double handfuls of tinder from one of the pouches, along with a flint and steel fashioned from a piece of metal. Even with his nimble, hand-like paws and working thumbs, it took several tries to get the right angle for his strike to produce a spark. When he finally smelled the smoke, he grabbed a stiff piece of hide and fanned the spark into a flame, adding thicker and thicker sticks until he had a merry crackling blaze going.

Letting out a sigh of relief he turned to the pile of venison, letting the fire burn as he began slicing the meat into steaks, and the steaks into thin slices. He was taking his time, letting the fire burn down into hot coals. Really, he was going off of what he’d heard his father and Cairo saying about preserving meats. Today, he was trying smoking it.

He snicked with his claws here and there, removing fat and gristle, until only the meat remained in its thin slices, heaped in a stack on fresh snow to keep clean and cold. That was the key, right? His tongue clicked behind his teeth as he glanced at the raven, asking, “So, what stories have you heard this time?”

The glowing black and white raven needed no further prodding, beady mismatched eyes glinting like jewels in excitement as he dove into story telling mode. Ardyn grinned and listened as he worked, until all the meat he’d amassed was cut into thin strips.

He rose and scrubbed his hands and fingers in the snow nearby, glancing at the fire and noting it was ready for the next step. He trotted to the base of the tree and pulled a cold stiffened hide from the pile of wood underneath it. It was maple and apple, kept aside for these things. The hide had kept it bone dry, and several hide bags had been tucked in as well, full of wood chips.

He began stacking the wood in a square around the pile of coals, and between each layer, he laid a lattice of straight, green sticks, over which he laid strips of meat in neat rows. The fresh hide he planned to throw over the top of the stack, but first, he threw in a few double handfuls of wood chips, maple and apple.

Another layer, another lattice and more meat strips laid out neatly, until no more strips remained, and smoke billowed up from the wood chips. He threw the hide up and over, cutting off the smoke and forcing it to circulate around the layers of meat.

And now was the fun part. He padded away to sit out of the wind and snow, and Lyr dropped to sit on a log nearby, clacking his beak cheerfully, wings folded neatly as he told Ardyn about the latest stories, some even from the Nomads.

The raven fluttered his wings and gestured enthusiastically with flaps and controlled wing movements, telling about the various Nomad-told stories about Luneil and Somneil, though the Nomads called them Timeo and Lyuteor.

Ardyn listened to the accented speech, ears perked with interest. While he didn’t exactly subscribe to the existence of gods and demigods, he still found the lore interesting, and Lyr, knowing this, often made inquiries to various wolves he met about their beliefs, if any. True, he feigned an interest in learning beliefs for the benefit of bringing interesting stories back to his wolven friend, but he enjoyed the play acting.

Ardyn glanced at the smoke stack and rose, noting the smoke leaking from the sides of the stack had stopped. Moving the hide aside, he tossed in more wood chips, and shifted the hide so the smoke would reach another spot. Once certain that things were still hot enough to catch and smoke, he returned to his spot, flopping with a stretch and yawn as Lyr dove into a fresh round of stories. For a young bird, the raven had already seen much.

A few hours later, Ardyn rose to his paws and stretched, shaking out his black fur in a flare of fiery light as he went to check the meat. He pulled the hide free, revealing the top layer of meat strips. They’d darkened considerably, and smelled amazing. They weren’t cooked, no, but they’d keep for some of winter at least, longer if he heated things up and cooked them into jerky. He plucked a strip up and sampled it. The flavor was rich, and he nodded in pleasure, swallowing the strip and beginning to gather the strips, ready to haul the meat back to the alcoves.

He wanted to show his father right away.

Word Count: 870

Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Labhair an Sean-Teanga." ---- "Hear" ---- Think