Citizen 154 Oleander

Compared to his sister Kamille, Oleander had never been the strongest or fastest. He preferred to keep to himself, drawing and helping their mother in her shop, always eager to work with fabric like she did. But it never really occurred to him to follow in his older sisters footsteps and live a life of piracy.

It didn’t occur to him to be much of a hunter either.

Yet now here he was, striving through the bushes of the forests within the dome, still keeping close to the city of Atlas. His blue eyes, influenced by the magic that he held within himself, darted from one spot to the other, trying to make out the steps of the large stag that he had tried to trail for the past three days. Really, Oleander wasn’t all too sure if he had done it right. But this was what he had to do - an offer to the ancients.

Oleander blinked a bit when he finally managed to locate the hoove prints he had hoped for. Once he saw them, he carefully began to follow them, quietly so. His belt carried plenty of hunting materials, from arrows to daggers to traps, but in the end, he found it easiest to rely on his instinct, instead of things that Rian had taught him to use in a hunt. Begrudgingly so. The pyrite rex would probably be annoyed if he knew how quickly Oleander had discarded his teachings.

With quick but careful movements, the small rex pushed himself through the forest, further following after the prints.

In the distance, slowly, the herd came into view. It weren’t many animals - not at all. It was easy to ignore the does in favor of the stag that overlooked the herd, magnificent antlers rising high and broad, slender at the tips but certainly no less deadly.

Oleander frowned, his blue gaze flitting between the different animals. The stag was standing rather close to him, still with another doe between them that the rex would have to get past. Probably no struggle. The does were sheepish and would run as fast as it could.

Slowly but surely, the shore coated rex pushed himself further forward, eyes fully focussed on the stag, particularly the large antlers. He would have to take care to not get too close. He had no interest in being gored today.

Once close enough, Oleander stopped, taking another deep breath. For a moment his hand brushed along the large knife that he’d been given by Rian… then he lowered his hand again. Fully focussing on the stag. Trying to let instinct take reign.

Then, with energy surging through his muscles, he dashed forward, out of hiding and into the fray. The doe that was right in front of him immediately let out a shrill noise, before already bounding out of the way. The stag attempting to follow right after, though Oleander had made sure to put the most of his power into his legs. He was fast, faster than he himself had at first expected he could be after his days of more careful slinking through the forests.

When he reached the stag, it had just kicked up dust with its hindlegs, trying to bound after the does that had already made way. Oleander couldn’t quite stop, crashing into the stag and throwing it off to the side, off the track, while he himself had to stumble to come to a halt. While he had been close to the stag he had tried to claw into the prey animals flank, tearing open the fur and flesh beneath.

The stag was quick to recover and whirl around as Oleander still tried to keep his balance. The shore coated rex looked up just in time to see the antlers aimed at him, then quickly ducked, just barely escaping the attack. With a low snarl, he tried to push up, but this time was too slow to give the prey animal a bite into the throat. The stag had already whirled off to the side and begun to dart off, jumping over a few bushes and disappearing in the forest.

Breathing heavily, Oleander raised his head, pushing himself up. His limbs were shaking, the adrenaline still fueling his veins after having stared at those dangerous antlers, a potentially deadly wound right around the corner.

He let out a soft breath, rubbing his nose a bit as he glanced around. The stag was gone, the only leftover sign of the stag being close being the rustling of leaves, a sound that ceased mere seconds later. A soft grunt escaped Oleander as he pushed up, then blinked as he felt something wet on his hands.

Glancing down at his claws he noticed the red gleaming blood. Looking further, he noticed a speckled trail of crimson, having splattered down and painting a barely visible path for anyone who didn’t care for it… but for someone on the hunt? It was a roadmap.

A low huff escaped Oleander and he quickly smeared the blood off on the next leaf. If he was lucky, the wound would slow the stag down.

Narrowing his eyes, he then began to follow the prey animal he’d let escape, eyeing the blood speckled brushes. For a few moments he took deep breaths, before pushing past the bushes and further his pursuit on the stag.

He might not have been successful the first time. But he knew he’d be in the long run. He might come after his mothers more careful, quiet and gentle nature, but he’d show the ancients that he was just as capable of survival and of bringing them honor.

He would not leave this forest unless this stag was between his claws and ready to be given to the elders.

~ obscureshizena