By the time Griffen and I have skinned and quartered the meat of the animals, the sun has begun to grow weaker in the sky. We preserve the hides to be tanned later on so that we can sell them in the town market next week when we make our group trip for the month to gather what supplies we need to hold us over. I get to work drying half of the meat into strips for the next few weeks while Griffen rounds up his goats for their evening meal with the shake of a tin container. 

With the sunset comes the chill of incoming nightfall, which brings goosebumps to my skin through the open window of the kitchen. If Nikko doesn’t return soon, I’ll have to go find him to make sure he hasn’t fallen into a ravine or happened upon an ornery bear after his fish. Hopefully, he hasn’t become negligent enough to trigger one of my hunting trips and got himself caught in a snare. Part of me wishes that’s the case if only so I can rib him about it later. 

I turn my attention back to the potatoes in front of me, continuing to scrub them clean beneath the running water with a bristle brush. The water on the stove is already boiling, so I cut them and drop the cubed potatoes inside and start preparing the green beans that we grew in our small garden. It has never flourished due to the inconsistent sunlight, but we were lucky enough to harvest a few green vegetables before the frost killed the plants for the season. While I busy myself with supper, Griffen feeds his goats and comes inside to wash up and help me set the table. 

We're running low on spices and herbs, so I do the best I can to make the meal more flavorful by adding some goat milk into the potatoes and stirring in some dried chives, pan-searing the venison steaks in butter that Griffen helped me make a few days ago. The aroma of the cooking meat makes my stomach growl. I snagged a slice of bread before I began cooking, but the sizzling of the venison steaks makes my mouth salivate. 

Just as the food is ready to be served something causes me to look out the window. A figure emerges from the forest on the south side of the cabin, where the same creek I was at earlier opens up into a small river. I got to the door to stand on the porch, shading my eyes against the bright sunset with a hand. "I was beginning to wonder if something ate you," I banter, raising my voice enough to be heard over the bleating goats. 

Nikko tracks through the small yard space we have with his catch, his tall frame illuminated by the oranges and reds bleeding across the horizon. He is at the bottom of the steps within a few strides of his long legs, hoisting his catches of the day with ease. "Don't you wish," He quips in return, holding out the line that he carries. Three fish are hanging from it, two of them a decent size to eat while the other is quite small. I suppose he plans on feeding the pathetic one to Griffen and saving the bigger ones for Kaisen and himself. Knowing him, he likely caught a small one on purpose just to be funny. 

I roll my eyes and wave him onto the porch so he can deposit his catch and wash his hands for dinner. The light from the kitchen window spills out onto the porch, illuminating Nikko's profile as he sets the fish beside the door. Hearing the bickering, Griffen cracks the door to peek outside, glimpsing the three fish. "Is that all you caught?" His tone is laced with criticism, clearly unimpressed. “Wait until you see what Kai brought home.” 

Nikko pushes past him, knocking the smaller boy's body against the door frame. “What’s that? A rabbit?” His snips fizzle out when he catches a whiff of the cooked meat, pausing in the threshold of the kitchen to stare at the table. Each of our places is set and there are six venison cuts the size of his hand piled onto a serving dish, still glistening with melted fat. His scowl in my direction is short-lived as his hunger overshadows his disdain for losing to me. 

“Wash your hands,” I demand, halting his advancement towards the food, jabbing my finger at the sink. “Kaisen should be home any minute.” Though my words sound confident, I don’t feel the same internally. Knowing that I allowed whatever beast is lurking out there to remain sinks like a weight in my gut. It isn’t that I’m concerned that Kasien cannot handle it himself, but the shadow of the possibility that it could have taken him by surprise lingers at the corner of my mind. 

“Yes, mother,” Nikko rolls his eyes as he redirects his steps to the sink, reaching to push his dark mop of hair from his eyes. It’s starting to get too long for him to maintain, so I make a mental note to bring it up later. His frame nearly takes up the entire window as he flicks his dripping hands dry obnoxiously, his dark eyes glinting in the candlelight that illuminates the dim space. “What?” He demands, catching my gaze on him still as I linger in the doorway. 

“Something is picking at the goats. I ran into it today by the meadow and it needs to be dealt with.” 

Nikko remains in front of the sink, heaving a heavy sigh as he turns his attention out the window, likely surveying the woods that surround us. “Do you think Kaisen will notice first?” Though he keeps his expression schooled into something unreadable, I can hear his tense tone. Nikko understands the responsibility the two of us uphold in Kaisen’s absence, which means that we are supposed to remain aware of the surrounding forest at all times. The fact that neither of us has managed to notice and immediately dealt with the creature reflects poorly on our skills. 

I shrug a shoulder, determined to remain noncommittal. “Possibly. Let’s deal with it after we eat. There’s no sense in waiting for him.” Nikko flexes his fingers and nods curtly in agreement, turning towards the table. Though the hot, fresh food is a delicacy for us, the three of us eat in silence, our ears straining to detect any sounds of the forest as the sun succumbs to the darkness. It’s plain fact that Hunting at night is more dangerous than the daytime, but Nikko and I hardly have much of a choice. We have a better chance working together on this Hunt and though each of us prefers to work alone, we both know it. 

As soon as our bellies are full we leave the dishes to Griffen and push away from the table to prepare ourselves. He disappears into the darkened room off of the kitchen while I turn in the opposite direction to retrieve my sword from beside my bed. Though it means little to me, the blade was forged by Holy Fire, allowing it to pierce the hearts of any Creature of the Night with efficiency. The mace and broadsword that Nikko wields were forged similarly, as all Hunter's weapons are. Average steel is useless in killing a monster if any damage is done at all. 

Nikko and I meet back up on the porch and set out with a shared nod, our footfalls silent against the ground as we dart for the trees. Though we could simply sit and wait in the shadows for the beast to return for a goat supper, it isn’t worth the risk of having Kaisen walk upon us. The only way to redeem ourselves for this mishap is to return with a head in our hands. 

The night is still as Nikko and I split several yards apart, neither of us visible in the dense shadows of the forest. Our sight is all but useless in the pitch darkness that this wood brings, so we rely solely on our sense of hearing and smell to make our way through the trees. No animals stir near us as we creep silently across the soft footing of dead foliage until we come across the gentle babbling of the stream. As expected, the intestines of my stag are missing on the bank, meaning that whatever was watching me accepted the offering as I expected. 

The night remains eerily quiet for a while as the two of us slink wordlessly into the shadows of the trees around the brook, one on each side as we lie in wait. The same dreadful feeling skitters up my spine, letting me know that my instincts were correct as usual. Considering that the night has only just fallen completely, it seems that the Werewolf is waiting to make his grocery run until we have fallen asleep. That means that it’s smart enough to know who lives there if it’s unwilling to attack during the daytime. 

The feeling grows stronger as my ears begin to pick up the sound of brush being moved as something heads towards the creek. Now that the trees have tinned, the moonlight illuminates the clearing just enough to see claws as long as my hunting knife steps onto the creekbed on the other side of the water from my position, which is upwind of the beast. It proceeds out of the treeline, showing its ugly head as it lifts to scent the air, catching my location on the breeze. 

Burning yellow eyes peer into the forest around me as it tries to pinpoint my hiding place, a loud snarl erupting from its parted maw. I resist the urge to curse, seeing the beast’s appearance. Unlike the traditional Werewolves that live in packs, this one is Rogue or a wandering beast without the restraint of an Alpha. It holds more power than a typical Werewolf in just one of its gigantic paws. This is a Lycanthrope variant, standing eight feet tall as it leans onto its hind legs, eyes locking onto mine through the bush I’m hidden behind. What’s more, Lycanthropes are known to be henchmen of Witches. So, what is it doing here?

The Lycanthrope extends its back legs like a human as it charges towards me, eating up the ground that separates us in a matter of seconds. Adrenaline kicks in as I force myself to remain hidden until Nikko lunges from his hiding spot across the creek with his mace in hand. Teeth that are too big for its snout flash in the moonlight as it whirls on Nikko, which is my signal to pounce. Even as the Lycanthrope is occupied swiping at my companion, its tail swishes with the force of a gale wind towards me, attempting to knock me over. 

My muscles coil in my legs and I launch myself over the swing, drawing my sword in the same movement and plunging it into the beast’s back. At the bite of my steel, the Lycanthrope howls and turns its focus onto me as I cling to its thick, black fur, halting my ascent up to its shoulders as it swings around violently, scrambling to peel me off. The putrid stench of decay washed over me, threatening to make me forfeit my supper as I hold tightly to fistfuls of the coarse fur. 

Nikko swings his mace at the Lycan’s chest, hitting its arm with a sickening crunch as the beast attempts to block the strike. A rawr ripples through the air and shudders through the back that I cling to, creating a quake that rivals nature. My joints begin to throb from the sheer force of my grip but I use the opportunity to climb a few feet farther up the beast’s back. Using the uninjured arm the Lycan smashes Nikko in the chest, guarded only by the grip he maintains. I can’t spare a look in his direction to see if he is alright, taking every second of distraction that I have to hoist myself onto the beast's shoulders. 

I wrap my legs as tightly as I can around its neck as I position my sword. The Lycan swipes at me blindly, sensing what I’m aiming to do. It knicks its own face in a few spots before a claw grazes my left cheek and ear, but my thighs hold fast as I drive my sword down towards the softened flesh between the base of the throat and the collarbone. The muscle of its chest is far too thick to pierce any organs, which left me with an easy choice. My sword dives into the Lycan’s skin, only stopping once the hilt is reached and the heart has been pierced. 

The beast roars again, nearly deafening me as I grab hold of its ears to keep my balance. It throws itself back towards the trees in a last-ditch attempt to free itself of me, even though the wound is fatal. Just like the young buck from this morning, it hasn’t registered in the Lycan’s mind that he’s dying. The moments before that realization is met the beast utilizes to smash his back against the trees, one after another until its strength finally fails and knees buckle. 

My back hits each trunk with enough force that the trunks creak, though I manage to protect my head with my arms until the last tree, which is cracked in half with the force of the Lycan’s bodyweight. The back of my skull connects to the bark as the beast’s head rolls backward, no longer having the strength to hold its own head up. Even if it wasn’t so dark, I know that I wouldn’t be able to see anything anyway as the pain registers in my mind, immobilizing me with searing blindness. The Lycan’s head has my body pinned against the ground as it slumps over, my brain too fogged by the blow to roll away quickly enough. 

The air is struck from my lungs as I try to suck in a breath, keeping myself calm. I know that Nikko blocked the swipe with his mace, so he should be recovered by now. As if on cue, I hear my name being called through the deafening ringing of my ears. “Kainda!” 

My nose feels broken, eyes watering against the pain as I try to claw my way from beneath the Lycanthrope’s weight as it crushes down on my chest and legs. I can still feel them, at least, which means they aren’t broken or paralyzed. “Here,” I choke out, reaching a hand out blindly for him. I can taste blood on my lips when I open my mouth.

Nikko’s fingers clasp around mine as he helps pull me from under the Lycan’s dead weight. “For Odin’s sake, Kai,” Nikko pants, successfully freeing me after a moment's struggle. He falls to his knees beside me as we take a minute to recuperate now that the threat has been subdued. It takes a moment for my eyes to readjust to the sliver of moonlight that trickles through the canopy above, outlining Nikko’s face. I catch a glimpse of his dark eyes that glance off of the dim light as he takes in my injuries. I do the same to him, noting the two deep scratches on his chest peeking out from the low neckline of his shirt, bleeding brightly against the white material. Seeing that neither of us is gravely wounded, we shake our heads and laugh as the adrenaline fades slowly from our veins. 

“You’ve bested me twice today,” Nikko admits, hardly sounding so bitter about it anymore. He runs a finger through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes and wincing at the movement. “I think I broke a rib. Compared to you, I got off lucky.” 

I breathe through my mouth as blood gushed from my nose, soaking the front of me. Broken, but at least the worst damage done is the concussion. “Shut up,” I say, unable to help a smile at how nasally my voice sounds. I reach to rub the back of my head as the pain sets in, determined to stay for a while as a reminder of my recklessness. A considerable-sized bump has already begun to form beneath my gently prodding fingers. “Let’s take its head.” 

Nikko grins in return and helps me to my feet, casting me a cautious look as I sway slightly. I wave him off and stumble to the body of the Lycanthrope, clambering onto its mountain of a chest to retrieve my sword from its neck. I begin to feel nauseous from my injuries so I step back and let Nikko chop off the head, knowing that it will take a few minutes to hack through the muscle and bone. Black blood glistens in the moonlight as Nikko’s blade works, spilling like a stream from the wounds. I focus on regaining my consciousness to a somewhat normal state, determined not to pass out before we make it back. It’s only a thirty-minute walk and I’ll make Nikko carry the head.