"Our coming of age is today Lottes, make sure you dont get killedby a rabbit."
A boy with a Plump face I had grown to hate spat those words. A face I'd love to jab with an arrow, snobbish rich bastard.
"Dont worry Bluk, rabbits arent wanted by my stomach. I've actually grown quite fond of pork. Maybe you know a pig I could hunt."
Im quite pleased with that frown on his face. Serves you right you muddy pig.
My feet dangled as the pig got angry. Fat hands lifting me from the ground, Dont shoot if you cant take you fatty!
This, was the usual interaction of Bluk and Lottes. As the people around the village stared at the scene, they could'nt help but wonder why these two always fought.
As Bluk and Lottes stared down each other with hatred in their gazes, they both looked puzzled as Bluk was lifted off the ground by someone.
Oh no, both had the same thought as they saw who it was.
He towered over both of them, even if both of them combined their heights it would barely reach the mans shoulder. His body would make anyone look thin. His face irritated with impatience, probably because of them. His head lacked any hair but on it was a scar he gained after fighting a bear, revealing shreaded skin.
"Both of you are the only ones NOT at the CAMP! You runts better RUN there NOW." His voice made everyone cover their ears. Bluk and Lottes were shaking in fear as they said "sorry!" while bolting towards the forest where the Camp was located.
Sigh Lottes eventually reached the camp first. There were a dozen of older kids, soon-to-be warriors of their village.
Not long after, Bluk arrived slightly fatigued. Right behind him was Sir Fluiron, the man who yelled at them to hurry.
The older kids were looking at the three who arrived. However, with a sharp glare from Fluiron, the rest went back to training.
"Alright you two, both of you are finally 15. Do I even need to explain why youre here?"
Both shook their heads, they've been training for this moment for the past year.
"Great, Gear up and perform your Lone Hunt." Sir Fluiron shooed them away.
Honestly why cant you not do this I felt annoyed at this Lone Hunt thing. It was just stupid, Lone Hunt was the act of shaping your destiny for the People of Boarea. Whatever you hunt symbolizes how important you are in the future or whatever.
Im not even born here, why do I have to do this. His face scrunched as a memory flashed. Right, for her
He attached a small quiver on his hip loaded with 3 arrows, as he wore the bigger quiver with around 20 arrows. His sides carried 2 daggers along with a small pouch for storing some dried up meat and a waterskin filled to the brim.
Old hag, watch my hunt, I'll show you your time wasnt wasted.
He jogged into the Forest, keeping a steady pace. His bow was ready and his eyes scanning his surroundings.
It was around noon, his first act was to find a shelter. He remembered months back when his Hunting Teacher showed him a nearby cave. It was only 14 Hunt ranges away. At most a 2 hour jog.
With nimble feet, he traversed the Forest of Boarea. He had a few close calls with Honuttes. He was almost spotted, however, an unfortunate hare grabbed its attention.
This gave him enough time to reposition to wait for the Honuttes to pass. Shortly after the close encounter he managed to reach his destination.
'Barely a semblance to a shelter' Lottes gathered dried leaves, dumping it carelessly. Barely passable for a bed.
He laid down on the sheet of leaves, his body trying to relax on the hard ground. His eyes furrowed, his fist clenched. His body twisted and turned. Each position worst than the last.
'As if I needed more reasons to hate this damn tradition, respect the ancestors my ass.' He couldnt stress anymore how much he hated tradition. He found them as nothing more than repeated events for the sake of a "glorious past" filled with useless and nonsensial activities.
'Who decides the future with a damn hunt?'
He couldnt be bothered to understand the human mind.
'Whatever, im doing this for benefits anyways. Symbolisms and all that dont matter to an outsider.'
Eventually, he grew tired of his restlessness and decided to put some effort on crafting a better makeshift bed.
Lottes began to clean up the cave, Scaring off the bigger bugs. He made sure temporary home for today wouldnt be infested.
Time moved quickly, the day light dimmed slowly as the moon took over the sky. Lottes lit up a small fire, sparking light from a shallow hole filled with wood he made just now.
it was a process he had grown used to. More so since 3 years ago.
He took a bite from the dried meat he packed, his mouth munching quickly as he swallowed hastily. 'Taste like Tree bark, how in the world did she make it taste so good?'
Never could he replicate that old hags cooking. Stubborn as weeds, she kept her secret recipes to the damn grave.
He chugged one gulp down his parched throat with water from his waterskin. Feeling refreshed, he layed down on his bed.
'A hunter needs rest to hunt at their best.'
Teachings from the Boar Man Fluiron. His mind wandered as he began to drift to sleep. He hoped tomorrow would lead to progress.