Citizen 559 Charon

Word Count: 1157
TW: Blood, Animal Death

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Trees swayed in the late night breeze, a light rain pattering against the back of a young bronze-colored rexal who crept along the forest floor. His ears swivelled back and forth, feeling for even the slightest of vibrations in the air as he trudged down a well-worn animal trail, panting lightly, his claws leaving long grooves in the mud that now stained his limbs and belly.

His brow furrowed. This wasn’t Charon’s first hunt, far from it, in fact. He’d grown up learning to use slings and bows to take down small game like pheasants, hares, and the occasional fox when such a creature dared trespass on his family’s farm, but prolonged tracking was another matter entirely.

Usually on excursions like these he’d be under his father’s watchful eye, this time, however, he did not afford himself that privilege - though secretly, he wished that he had, as in doing so he’d damned himself to many hours overnight in these woods, and now, with the rain seemingly doing all it could to hinder his progress, the trail had gone cold as the winds that sent chills up his armored spine.

A small slip saw Charon's hand getting caught beneath a root, nearly sending him face-first into the mud before he regained his balance. The young rex hissed expletives under his breath and clawed at the ground in frustration, until a sound from off to his left made him freeze, ears twitching. He turned, stepping gingerly off the path and started to slink his way through the undergrowth.

He listened intently, trying to isolate the noise from the droning of the rain. Footsteps in the mud, an animal, maybe? More than one? he thought to himself as he drew closer.

He hoped it was red deer, that was his ideal choice. A stag with a full set of antlers would surely impress - If not the Elders, then his family at the very least - and provide a nice challenge as well.

Charon carefully nudged his way through the bushes until he spotted a break in the vegetation, slowing his steps to peer out into a small clearing, illuminating the space with the soft golden glow of his halo. Foraging along the sodden ground was a group of wild hogs; sows and their fuzzy, side-striped young, with their snouts shuffling along the forest floor.

He licked his lips.

A hog will do.

Large, fast and mean, taking down a hog would be a show of skill for sure, especially for a young rexal such as himself, seeing as the things were bloody near half as tall as he was. A small part of him wished there were a boar or two, with their longer tusks, but he quickly shook the thought. Sows were nasty enough as it was, especially when defending their young, so they were already more likely to leave an impression on his hide than anything else, but hey, he’d always liked a bit of a challenge.

Besides, if the Ancients had presented him with an opportunity here, he’d be remiss to let it go to waste.

Charon glanced over the group, his eyes eventually locking onto a dark-colored sow near the back, furthest away from him. She was a bit larger than the rest, older, maybe, and with no shoats in her immediate vicinity.

After taking note of the wind’s direction he began to crawl along the tree line, keeping his belly low as he circled his way around the clearing towards the sow, tail lifted carefully off the ground so as not to drag and catch onto anything.

He had no tools with him, no knives or slings or bows as he’d used so many times before, no, he wanted something new. This time, he wanted to feel his prey between his-

Squelch.

Charon winced as his hand slipped into some unseen hole in the mud, tugging it back with another horrible sound before his attention snapped back to the hogs. Their dark little eyes glinted in his halo’s light as they stared in his direction, frozen like statues. Their ears pricked forward, legs tensed as they huddled together as a group and the dark-colored sow he’d been eyeing let out a deep, guttural growl.

He cursed himself out, then in a moment of impulse and, quite frankly, desperation, Charon dug his claws deep into the earth, trying to get as much of a hold as he physically could before springing forward, falling short of the sow and landing with a stumble.
The group erupted in a cacophony of high-pitched squeals, kicking up mud as they scrambled to get out of the young rexal’s way. Before Charon could fully regain himself he heard a loud snort, and a wave of pain shot through leg as the sow embedded her teeth deep into his wrist.

Charon reared up with a snarl, raising his free hand and swiping down to connect a forceful blow to the sow’s snout, sending her reeling back. He seized his opening, and before she had time to retaliate he flung himself at her once again, the pair of creatures flinging up chunks of mud and dirt as they tussled on the forest floor.

After taking a few more nips and a handful of sharp kicks to the face, Charon managed to get a grip on the sow, pushing himself up and holding her head down with his good hand. Without hesitation he delivered a killing bite to her throat, a loud squeal ringing through the trees as teeth sank into flesh.

Once she had stopped moving, Charon let go, panting heavily as he leaned back to sit on his haunches and catch his breath. He glanced around; it seemed as though the other hogs had taken the chaotic moment to clear out, much to his relief. He wasn’t sure he had it in him to fight another one.

He took a moment to inspect his wrist; tiny golden flecks glittered on the surface of the puncture wound, and while it was undoubtedly painful, it didn’t seem to be too deep. Nothing a good poultice couldn’t ease.

Could’ve gone worse, all things considered.

He sighed, turning his attention to the sow. She was sopping wet, covered in blood and mud, as they both were, and maybe didn’t look like the prettiest offering on the surface, but the more he looked her over, admiring her tusks and the little intricacies of her coat, with hints of black and red intertwined, Charon felt a warmth grow somewhere in his chest, and his halo beamed with pride.

Eager to return home and get them both cleaned up for the Elders, Charon pushed himself off the ground to stand on twos, trying to pay little mind to his throbbing wrist. He grabbed his sow by the hocks, hoisting her up onto his shoulder before setting off, listening to the pitter-patter of the rain as began his journey back home.

Author: Kelhdare