Zeth, Merdihan Ridic [best book recommendations .TXT] 📗

Wolfwater

The wind rampaged through the forest dismembering the brush, it’s wailing paired with the screaming of the trees as their roots tore from the ground. Zeth has been inside this dense habitat for two days now, hunting down anything that can be considered prey. Trekking farther into the woods than anticipated, he felt the looming knowledge that winter was coming. Food was scarce and wouldn’t suffice if he intended to make it, and the coin pouch at his waist lacked as much weight as his physical form.

The bushes provided little cover from the storm but were a better alternative to the now diminishing trees. As he walked along the muddied trail of hoof imprints, he assessed how long it would take for the fauna to return. This area had plenty of grass and water, and had enough cover for them to camouflage themselves if they were to face beasts of prey. Although he was considered in the elite of all the hunters in his village, hiding your scent was still a difficult task; He sniffed his shirt and cringed at the ripe scent of ammonia emanating from it, hopefully masking him enough to pass off as nonexistent. Armed with a bow and arrows he could be considered the ideal sports hunter, nimble and light, he wore no metal apart from his blade to weigh him down. At not being fond of traps, he would always get ridiculed that he was only half of a hunter, but not having to return to an area like this where he could easily become the casualty was another reason to avoid them out here. There were still parts of the territory that remained too foreign to him. Besides, he could pierce the skull of a rabbit with an arrow from a hundred yards away if he wanted to, and his camp was set out over a ridge less than fifty. It was placed so the wind would induce speed, he only needed one clear shot and he'd be home free with food. There was no need to bind himself to sections that he could be followed and attacked.

"Shit, not now." He cursed in a hushed tone, the wind carrying away his mutters as he crouched at the howls of the wolves. Their cries harmonizing with the moaning of the winds caused the hairs on his body to stand on end. He was running out of time, they either picked up on his scent or the deer’s and he doesn’t plan on waiting to find out. He threw the bow over his shoulder and hooked it to the holster on his back, then snatched his small bag of arrow heads off the ground. He fastened his gear as he headed towards his campground, picking up haste at hearing the sound of hooves and paws clamoring on the ground towards him at a fast pace.

He searched for low hanging branches to seek shelter from the oncoming stampede of frantic animals. He reached above him to the nearest tree limb and pulled down hard on it, testing its durability, it was still unstable as it rocked back and forth with the wind but he had no other choice. This is the reason why he scouted this area, the tree’s here were low-slung enough to provide a quick escape if needed. Scaling twenty feet up safely out of danger, he took post, if luck was on his side he may still be able to get some nourishment out of this.

He was tall and rangy, blessed to be born taller than most males around Wolfwater, standing easily at six foot three while most of the men were hardly up to his shoulders. Only Captain Kom was taller than him, that man was as tall as a horse and as broad as an ox. He intended to sit there and wait for his chance but something compelled him to go higher, all the way up. After easily making it to the top, he realized this tree was a lot smaller compared to rest of them. He could only see what was in his direct surroundings. The small slimmer of hope at seeing over to where the ridge sits were shut down. He had heard a lot of rumors about Thornlake Forest: it’s evil and alive, how the trees would move and talk, and how hunters would enter but never exit. There’s one tale that states if one were ever foolish enough to cut one of these accursed trees down, it’d bring catastrophe to their family. He never believed in such things, but one could never be too careful, there were many who would use the fictions to their advantage. He pulled out his bow and an arrow from the quiver, prepped on the string and pulled it back, aiming it at the field near the river. He needed to focus on his initial task or he would die from starvation and become part of the stories fabricated about the forest.

The wolves came out of the trees first; eight of them in total, amongst them two pups. Their bodies and snouts stained crimson, their ashen fur dripping warm liquid down their limbs. It was hard to tell if it came from sustained injuries or if they were just wearing the war paint of a successful hunt. The group whimpered and growled toward a dense mass of trees and Zeth strained his eyes to see what they all were reacting to so strongly. To his surprise it was a giant elk, and it burst through the bush plowing down into the nearest wolf, impaling its antlers deep inside its torso and killing it instantly.

His whole body tensed up as he watched the giant elk throw the wolf carcass aside as if it weighed nothing. This bull stood easily at Nine feet tall, larger than average for one its species. The muscles in its body highly defined and a dominant stature, the rack atop its head must be at least another 5 feet in height. This could easily be the alpha male in its gang. His legs had faint bite marks from the wolves nipping at him during the chase. The elk flared his nostrils and dug his hooves into ground beneath him, showing an offensive stance as two of the wolves started stalking around. They aimed to force it into choosing one or the other; charging at the elk from different directions at once. Zeth knew at least one of wolves were going to die, it was a sacrificial strategy in which they would feign charges at the prey until one gets close enough to deliver the final strike. But, this elk seemed far too intelligent and large to be brought down so easily. Whichever one that attacks first, would no doubt be the next to fall. In that short meantime the other would attempt to rip the large bull’s throat out. Zeth saw a chance and although it was great, it was going to be a risky.

He watched the elk closely, remembering the legends of the large beast that lurks the woods, known to stand tall and reign over all that resided inside.

“It's not often you see the king of the Thornlake Forest.” He said snidely to himself, mostly for self-amusement. The elk didn’t budge as the wolves charged, not fazed in the slightest, its glassy black eyes staring straight ahead. If Zeth didn’t know any better, he’d say that is was looking directly at him, but that’s absurd at this distance and height. The elk slammed his head toward the ground with deceiving speed as the wolves finally sprung at his neck, the antlers on his head slamming against them pinning them to the ground. The one on the farther left stopped moving, and it was just as Zeth has predicted.

"A human. This far in my forest? I should kill you, just like these traitors." A deep voice echoed loudly in the forest and Zeth flinched violently, accidently loosing the arrow he had notched. He swung his ahead around looking for the source of the voice, yet finding no one, all he could see were the animals a way’s away from him. The elk coolly stared him down, his own mouth agape at the realization that the voice came from non-other than the very same animal.

"Are you stupid boy? Have you never seen my kind?" Proclaimed the elk, its voice booming on the inside of his head; a shiver ran down his spine and rendered him speechless. Simultaneously he also examined the remaining pack members, only five of them were left. The two that attempted attacking the elk were dead, most of them fleeing at losing what no doubt were the leaders of the group. The only ones that remained were the pups, they instead ran toward the dead wolves that attacked the elk, and so he assumed that one must be their mother.

"How?" Was all Zeth could manage to squeak out, his mouth dry and hanging open, still in awe of this beautiful creature. The fact that it can speak to him just makes the encounter all the more special. The elk stepped over the pups as they gathered around their parent’s dead body and whine, ignoring them completely, and headed straight towards him; his sole focus on Zeth, the human who treks in his forest.

“I don’t recall ever having seen a human this far out before, must be desperate times for your species.” The elk’s voice echoed.

Zeth stared at the being, his eyes running along its face and body. He couldn’t help but notice the blood dripping off its antlers, he could see the muscles rippling under its hide. He noticed the scars along its right leg and chest, but the one that really caught his attention was the one on its face. Right between the eyes, Zeth mentally traced it, two long thin slashes in the figure similar to an X. The elk raised his head further as if wearing the scar as a crown. Zeth knew that this creature was wary of humans, it didn’t trust him but it wasn’t afraid, he didn’t trust it either especially considering this one could talk. Or maybe he’s just spent too much time alone.

"You're inside my head? How is that possible?” Whispered Zeth as he grabbed his weapon out of his bag. The great elk got closer to the tree its antlers only couple feet away from him. The vane he chose to carry wasn’t anything extravagant, it was a ten inch short-blade, thin with a razor sharp edge. A skilled swordsman could easily slide the blade between a pair of ribs, a novice could butcher with repeated blows; an all-around saber constructed by Zeth's father Alan. He was a skilled blacksmith before he ran off to fight the in the war, and looking at it stirred nostalgia in Zeth’s chest. The tree shook as the elk slammed its head against it.

"How did you get that sword?" he demanded. Zeth was so startled he almost dropped it. Grabbing onto the closest tree branch to steady himself and gripping the cutlass so they wouldn’t fall as the elk kept slamming his body against the tree, out of dominance.

"Stop!" Shouted Zeth, his voice echoing in the sudden silence of the forest. He noticed the elk has stopped slamming itself against the tree. Even the wolf pups have stopped whimpering by their dead mother, staring at him with their heads tilted sideways the as if they understood him and obeyed his demand.

"Remove your hood boy, and come down from the tree. I seek answers from you." Said the elk as he turned around and back towards the pups in a regal manner, not bother to check if he was conformed. They backed up against their dead mother