The Beast

The wind had just shifted and was now blowing from behind Elise into the valley. She was crouching in a tree, about ten feet off the ground, looking out at a clearing. Her dad had built the hide years ago, along with a dozen others in the valley. Just enough room to sit down if you wanted, and a little bit of cover from the weather if you pressed your back against the tree trunk. The field in front of her was filled with tall grasses and wildflowers that waved gently at her. She sighed deeply. If there were any deer out there, they wouldn't come anywhere near her now. She sat down and lay her rifle across her knees. It was her mother's rifle, from her time serving the Families. A simple bolt action, it was one of the cheapest the Families manufactured. Little more than a tube and a piece of Vein laid into a wooden stock. But it was reliable, and perfect for hunting. Elise had even recently saved up a little money and bought a scope for it.

She pulled open the bolt and removed the bullet from the chamber. One of her dad's homemade rounds, it was little more than a chunk of tapered iron, but it reacted with the Vein shard just as well as anything else, and it was cheaper than a trip to town to pick up professionally made ammo.

As she was inspecting the bullet, she saw movement on the other side of the clearing. A deer was cautiously stepping through the trees. It was a buck, and a massive one at that, with an impressive rack of antlers spreading out from its head like the branches of the trees around it. She watched as the buck sniffed the air, looking left and right, and she waited for the inevitable moment it smelled her and bolted. But that moment never came. Instead the buck, seemingly satisfied that there was no danger, strolled into the grass and began eating. Elise carefully got back into a crouch and put the bullet back in to the chamber. The animal must have lost its sense of smell. She double checked the wind but it was still blowing from behind her into the clearing. She wasn't going to let this stroke of dumb luck go to waste thinking about it any longer. She pushed the bolt back into place as quietly as she could and settled the rifle against her shoulder. She waited to a moment to make sure she had her breathing under control then placed the crosshairs of the scope just below the animal's shoulder. The deer remained unaware as it continued to pull up mouthfuls of grass and flowers.

The gunshot echoed across the clearing and a group of birds took flight from a nearby tree. The buck raised its head, still chewing, to look in her direction. The shot had been lined up correctly, but she hadn't seen the impact. Franticly she pulled the bolt back, and inserted another bullet. Any other deer would have been gone by now but this one seemed dimwitted enough she might get another shot off. As she closed the bolt, she shook her head and tried to slow her heart rate. She must have sighted the scope incorrectly, probably missed the animal by inches. She placed the crosshairs on the deer's shoulder again and then lowered the angle, judging her miscalculation as best she could, and pulled the trigger.

The bullet hit the dirt behind the deer, spitting a little shower of earth into the air, right where her crosshair was placed underneath its belly. Confused, she just stared at the animal, and it stared back at her. It swallowed the grass it was chewing then, as if suddenly realizing the predicament it was in, bounded off into the trees and was out of sight in seconds.

The walk home was long, and it felt longer since she hadn't been able to bring anything back with her. She lived with her mother and father on the edge of the village of Birch. It was a small house, one floor with a root cellar, a bedroom for her, a bedroom for her parents, and a small kitchen/living room. Her dad had a shed he used for his work fixing tools for the village, and she could see him in there now. The sun had gone down an hour ago but the shed was still glowing from the Vein lanterns he had hung up on the walls inside and out. He'd never splurged to actually get the house fitted with Vein, so most of their household items still wood burning. Her dad preferred living the old way as much as possible, but he recognized that having open flames in his workshop was only a recipe for disaster. But other than the lanterns and her mom's rifle, she had grown up around candles and campfires.

She knocked quietly on the shed's door and gently pushed it open. Eric von Carr de Lagurre was a massive man, with broad shoulders and a gut that hung over his pants regardless of how well they were fitted. He nearly filled up the entirety of the small shed, and Elise always thought it was funny to see him attempting to turn around without knocking things over. Currently he was sitting on a stool, leaning over his desk and squinting at his current project: a hammer. The hammer's previous handle was lying in pieces on the floor and her dad was inspecting the new one. Without looking up he reached towards her with one arm and placed a finger on her lips.

"Concentrating," He whispered.

He removed his finger and gently took the hammer's handle in one hand, and the rest of the hammer in the other. Elise rolled her eyes, but waited patiently. Smoothly and gracefully, her dad brought the two pieces together, slotting the metal into the handle and then carefully placing it back on the table. He sat back and let out a deep sight before pretending to wipe sweat from his brow.

"Close one dad."
"Well, that's why they put me on the job," he pulled at his suspenders like he was showing off, "How was the trip?"
"It was shit. I hit three hides and didn't see anything until this morning."
"But?"
"But nothing."

He shook his head and picked up the hammer, testing it's weight before gently tossing it onto a shelf labeled WIP.

"Sometimes, that's the way it goes kid. Don't feel too bad, we've still got a few months before winter and we've got plenty saved up."
"It still feels bad."
"Yeah, but you know what feels good? Bread. Go get something to eat. I'll be in in a minute."

Elise nodded and turned to leave, but paused in the door.
"What's wrong kid?"
"I saw something weird this morning."
"What was it?"
"A deer," she turned around to face her dad, "It walked into the clearing even though I was upwind."
"Deer are stupid," he chuckled, "Some are more stupid than others."
"Yeah I guess, but that's not the most weird part."

She explained what happened as her dad rubbed his chin.

"Well...yeah that's a little weird. But I've seen some animals walk off worse injuries. I remember once seeing this doe that had been mauled by a bear. I swear to the Sovereign this thing was missing one side of it's body. But it was still walking around like it wasn't even injured."
"If I did hit it, I at least got a lung shot."
"Well there you go," he turned back to his desk and began packing up, "I betcha that animal lay down and died a few hours ago."
"Alright well," Elise scratched her head, "Maybe tomorrow I'll go ask Colin to take me back out there in his little flying machine and see if I can find it."

Her dad froze. He slowly reached over to the wall and turned off a lantern, then slowly turned to face Elise. With the lantern off, deep shadows were cast across his face.

"Colin huh?" he grunted, "Goin' into the wilderness alone. With a boy? Maybe I should go have a talk with him first."

He grabbed the newly fixed hammer and slapped it into his hand, which caused the metal to fall out of the wooden handle and land directly on his toe. He shrieked and stumbled backwards into a shelf as Elise burst into laughter.

The two of them cleaned up the mess and in no time they were sitting on the couch. Her dad was snoring within seconds of sitting down. Elise quickly ate, then ushered her dad off the couch and into bed. Her mother rolled over and grabbed her hand as she passed.

"How'd it go?" she whispered.
"Lost a deer, but I'm going to see if Colin can help me find it tomorrow."

Her mother patted her hand and rolled back over. Elise quietly stepped out of the room and closed the door before making her way to her own bed.

She woke up the next morning to the sounds of her dad in the kitchen. He was singing, badly, an old tune her mother had taught him from her military days. Elise pulled on a house coat and stepped out into the living room. Her dad was frying eggs in a pan on the wood stove. A pile of bacon was already cooked and sitting on a plate on the table. Her mom was already at the table, sitting in her wheelchair, reading a book while eating from the bacon plate. Eloie von Carr de Lagurre was a military woman through and through. She always kept her back straight, and her mind sharp. She did everything with precision and refused to let herself get soft. She'd been wounded a few years ago in a skirmish with Maret forces near the border and had been unable to walk ever since.

Elise grabbed a handful of bacon, too late realizing how fresh it was, and yelped, dropping it all right back on the plate.

"Careful, that's hot," her mother smiled from behind the book.
"Oh really? Thanks for the heads up mom."
"Anything for my baby," she took a sip from a coffee cup, "In a hurry to see the deRoi boy?"
"Yes mother," she feigned a breathy voice and pressed the back of her hand to her forehead, "Every second awake without him is a thorn in my heart."
"Yes well, boys will do that. Make sure you adjust your sights this time. Your father told me what happened."
"He thinks I hit it."
"Yes well," she sniffed and took another sip of coffee, "One of us has actually used that rifle before. You missed dear. And that's okay, just don't miss next time."
"Truly, you are a font of wisdom."

Her mom nodded, and took another piece of bacon. Her dad brought over a basket filled with fruits, bags of nuts, half a loaf of bread and some jam, and set it on the table.

"I prepped this for you and Colin. Make sure the boy eats something. A blacksmith's son shouldn't be that thin, it's unnatural."
"He's an artist dad. He doesn't really work in the shop anymore."
"Still."

Elise laughed and took the basket.

"I'll be back tonight. If I don't find it by then, it's gone for good."
"That's quite reasonable," her mother said, "Use protection."
"Mom!"
"The gun!" she chuckled, "Obviously I meant the gun. By the Sovereign, what dirty thoughts you have!"

Elise hurried down the street with the rifle over her shoulder. She'd packed a small backpack with the basket her dad had made her, an extra set of clothes, a couple blankets, and a basic kit for the wilderness (matches, twine, some fish hooks, a hatchet). Colin's house was near the center of the village. His family lived above their blacksmith shop, where his father and mother made everything from nails to horseshoes to the various tools that eventually ended up with her dad for repair.

Colin was outside when she arrived. He was tall and lanky, and whenever she stood near him she had to crane her neck a bit just to make eye contact. He had blonde hair, nearly the same colour as hers and people had often remarked they looked like siblings, except her eyes were brown, and his were a bright green. He was sitting on his porch, playing quietly on a mandolin. His dad had saved for years to get that imported from the capital and it had been Colin's pride and joy ever since. Colin had worked in the smithy until he was eighteen before his dad allowed him to stop. He still helped with selling product and shipping special orders out to surrounding villages but spent most of his time making music. He and Elise had been best friends since they were very young and there had always been rumours they'd end up together.