I woke; sweat dripping yet oh so very cold. The night seemed more dark than usual; charcoal perked up, feeling my distress.

I hugged the dog and I am not ashamed to write that I cried bitterly that night. The dream itself was quickly fading into the back of my mind.

It will be years before I dared to dream again.

Two days since that dreadful night, that dreadful dream; we were on the hunt since then.

Prey! The exited shout shook me out of my daze.

There he was. The stag, which we hunted, were cornered underneath an overhang. He was simply a breathtaking creature.

On the backdrop of a boulder, that formed the wall of the overhang that was topped by a struggling pine that held the soil on top of the rock and vines that hung their tendrils over the edge like a curtain that framed the fantastic beast.

The stag itself had white haired hooves, making him look like he had furred boots. his similar colored Mane covered him front and back from shoulder to chin leaving only the top of his head the brown of a deer.

Atop were the antlers that gave the spiritual animal its name. Like white jade, the two hatchets and the barbs that grew out of his head were fierce weapons and every angle of his Antlers were deadly.

His intelligent Eyes had a golden tinge and the slits looked like a black horizon and a calculating gleam.

I drew my bow and shot an arrow in one fluid motion.

.

The arrow hit the flank of the beast and charcoal immediately moved to circle towards the wounded side.

The stag charged at me hoping to dispatch me or at least prevent me from using the bow again.

As soon as I saw him rushing towards me, I flung the bow across my left shoulder in one fluid motion with my left, while the right hand was used to get the spear ready.

Facing the Bronze blade of my spear the stag diverted his charge, to no avail.

Instead of skewering himself, he got a deep gash in his shoulder wounding him greatly.

The wounded stag feinted first for my head with a left swing but went for charcoal. A wide sweep grazed him making us both retreat a few steps.

Seeing his chance to flee he bolted.

We were hot on his heels and thankfully he went towards the expected direction.

We put some distance between us but not to far away he should concentrate on us not his intended target.

“KuaKuaKuaKuaKuaKua” The Robbers started laughing when they smelled blood alarming half the woods.

“Silence you Traitors!” shouting helped to stop them, while they ruffled anxiously their bright yellow and ochre feathers.

One of the reasons Humans let them live in our Villages was that they let us hunt in peace.

After another half hour of chase where charcoal started to get exhausted we heard the crash and the bellow of pain we expected.

The same clearing were the sky dandelion was the stag doom.

The stag had to jump over a hedge to get into the clearing from the side that was cut off by the tree and Instead of a herb helping to restore his strength he fell into my trap.

The poor thing had his front legs and shoulder broken and the already wounded flank was now spouting blood.

With a resigned look and unable to escape he lifted his head; his pain clouded eyes urged me on, I pierced his heart with my spear, ending his misery.

Again did the damn birds start their nervous laughter, this time however, the damage was done before I could silence them. The birds attracted the pack of wolves we met before.

A hatchet deer is a price worth fighting for and no matter what was decided the days before strength alone decides at the end.

Two groups once more were eyeing each other.

On one side were us. Charcoal was wounded and exhausted but I was not, fresh like the spring thanks to Soaring Leaf.

On the other were five wolves. The Leaders fur was already tinging red, indicating nearing his ascension.

This made him my first target. The bow sprung from my left shoulder into my hand. My right had an arrow out the same moment. In a short moment I went from hooked bow to letting the arrow fly.

My intended target wasn't hit but another wolf that was too close; too slow. I had time for a second arrow hitting one of the young ones.

I discarded the bow and my pack so I can use “left spear right palm”.

A basic martial art intended to fight multiple opponents.

The pack leader center and was flanked by his uninjured children; they pounced toward me. My right palm smacked the snout of the right wolf, who yelped in pain as i knocked a canine out of his mouth taking him out the fight for the moment.

The leader again skillfully evaded my spear thrusts but still got cuts all over him while the wolf on left flank was ravaged by charcoal who covered my blind spots.

The stragglers arrived and now it was four against two, with the pack leader taking up all of my attention, when the newcomers leaped for charcoal.

Time slowed droplets of blood and my sweat floated trough the air, desperately I used telekinesis to gain hold on the lost canine.

My right index finger and the tooth became one and I flung it towards the flying wolf as fast as my body could turn.

I saw it enter the skull and leave it as fast as I blinked while the crack of thunder without rain deafened everyone.

The startled Wolves backed up after I followed with a swipe from my spear and I went into the second stance of “left spear right palm” with the palm resting on the butt of the spear waiting for anything to foolishly close on me while adding its strength to my spear thrusts.

Three against two and I still can't remember where all the wounds on me and Charcoal came from.

The Wolf that was knocked out was waking and crying tucking his tail he ran towards the clearings edge not willing to fight anymore. His remaining sibling and mother did the same.

The pack leader however followed reluctantly and gave me a look that was promising revenge.

Exhausted I tended to Charcoals wounds with the herbal tinctures I brought with me closed by woolen bandages.

You are bad luck Charcoal sent only half seriously.

I skinned and butchered the two dead animals and fed some of the meat toCharcoal and other stuff the damn birds.

The robbers loved offal and it's a price I was willing to pay for their silence lest they attract a bear or worse.

I thought to myself that these birds were aptly named.

Afterwards I broke the skull of the stag for the antlers and carefully cut the hatched off with my bronze spear, as my stone knife wouldn't do as much as chip the crystalline material.

My new hatched was then used to build a sled called a Travois from two young spruces and I loaded everything on it, including Charcoal.

Thank you! I don't think I can walk

Our rich bounty was a hard fought one. Yet i thanked the Spirits nevertheless. We made our way back.