Chapter 2
Hopefully the winds hold. Gryr didn’t mind the rain, in fact he actually enjoyed it. In a strange way he felt invigorated, rooted with the land he traversed. That day was one of the rare days Gryr was able to leave the heat of the blacksmith’s forge he called home. The master blacksmith he apprenticed under valued the lessons and training that hunting provided, so with a little luck and hard work during the mornings, Gryr was granted some time to hunt. To him, the forest felt right, the sounds and life that swirled around him always made him at ease.
Alright, where are we going today? Gryr didn’t speak aloud for fear of letting his prey know where he was. The young man moved with a hunter’s silence as he searched for any signs of a boar. Though the forest was home to many animals, the boars seemed to have claimed a large area near the entrance to the forest. Gryr crouched low and inspected a rather large print from his prey, the boar’s impression was deep, it was large and heavy. Excitement grew within Gryr.
Quickly, as the training took over, Gryr checked his bow and the hand axe that hung off his hip. He was not a good archer by any means, but he did value what range could bring to a hunt. The axe was handcrafted by his master. It’s pattern was precise and intricate, even down to the carved wooden handle that he briefly brushed over with his hand. Gryr steadied his excited breath and pressed toward the trail of prints the boar left. He was by all means a novice hunter, but he was trained well and prided himself in learning quickly. The encounter is won or lost before you raise your weapon. The words his master had spoken to him played in his head.
He raised the rain as he followed the trail. The sound of it colliding with the vegetation muffled his steps. It allowed him to move faster without fear of alerting anything of his presence. Gryr paused for a moment, his ears caught onto the faintest sound. It was a deep drumming, it was steady and faint, but nevertheless there. From deep within his gut, Gryr felt something surge to life. Damn nerves. He pressed on, he ignored the sound and his gut, Gryr was going to slay the large boar.
The rain hadn’t relented by the time Gryr reached his destination. Just before him he could see a bush rustling more than falling rain would cause. His mind went through its paces as he worked the next events in his head. Startle the beast, dirt to the bush should do the trick. It’s size means it will most likely attack. Gryr knocked an arrow and held the bow loosely in his hands. An arrow to slow it down, the axe to finish the job. Done before it started. Confidence swelled within Gryr as he dug into the mud beneath him with his foot. With his eyes locked onto the moving shrubbery he prepared to kick, but held. Something tugged at his focus. What is that? The drumming from before never disappeared, it only grew stronger as it seemed to fill his ears and drown away the pelting rain. Gryr took a hard focused breath and ignored the world as he launched the pad of mud from atop his foot.
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