Hefting Hunter

	He had been awake since the ass-crack of dawn, and still, ther ewasn’t a single bit of game in sight. The deer tightens his coat about himself a bit more to fend off the frigid snowflakes that were swirling throughout the air. For a moment, his mind wanders to what he had heard his father say that morning… Don’t come back without something to feed us. Like he could be any more specific than that. At the very least, he’s away from that son of a bitch. He’ll find him later, smashing that axe of his against some piece of wood or something along those lines. Probably.
	The sound of leaves rustling and twigs breaking pulls his from his reverie, and in a split second, he has his crossbow held up from his waist. Though, judging from the size of that massive contraption in both of his hands, it could hardly be called a “crossbow”. If anything, “Mobile ballista” would be a better choice of words than that. He’s had this thing since he was a child, but this was only the… fifth? Sixth time he’s brought it out? Either way, he’s got this thing working by now, so whatever it was that made that noise should watch out. Besides, he was strong enough to carry it. He’ll prove it, too, even if it means coming home with a pair of broken arms.
He narrows his eyes through his hexagonal goggles, his new game in sight: a water buffalo twice the size of himself. The thing was kneeling by the water, aimlessly chewing on some of the nearby grass… Though, not for long. With a bit of a heft of that massive machine in his hands, he aims it towards that massively fuzzy beast before pulling the trigger.

THOOPH-DRRRrrrr…

The recoil from that shot alone causes him to skid back a good foot or two, before one foot ends up reaching the air. He flails it in front of himself just so he doesn’t end up falling backwards and smacking his rump on the hard forrest floor. Thankfully, he rights himself a moment later… Well, there we go. He moves himself back to where he was hiding to see what he’s shot at. Though, when he gets back, the only thing he sees is that same water buffalo, in the exact same spot it was before… Did he hit it? Did his shot go wide…? He makes his way over after a moment or two, caution on his face.
A moment later, though, that caution is blown to the wind as he sees an immense steel spike pierced through the beast’s side. Judging from the crack in the wall behind it, it looks to have pierced through it… His observations are cut short, though. The sound of clicking meets his ears. After taking a small look around to try and figure out where it was coming from, he looks back towards his crossbow…

	Auto-Reloading Mechanism, huh…? Still learning new stuff about this thing every day, it seems.

Regardless, he turns back towards the beast he had just felled, closing the distance rather quickly. Even if it was alive, it couldn’t go anywhere. Especially not with a two-inch thick pile of steel in its chest. He smiles to himself, and starts to heft that massive beast’s corpse down from his bolt. Yeah, he’ll be eating well tonight. With a bit of a grunt, he pulls it off a bit…
“C’mon you big fuzzy bastard, let’s get you dressed for dinner…” And soon enough, that carcas thumps its way to the floor. He reaches behind himself, to the back of his belt. He could feel that piece of sharp metal there, ready and waiting for him to use it. With a quick “sssf-!” he pulls it free, and begins to start cutting up that beast’s meat like it was his job. In a way, it was, but no one would tell him that. Either way, he had to be quick; flies could get there at any minute, and the more they came by, the more he would have to waste by the end.
He looks up towards that blood-coated piece of metal embedded in the wall. There was no way he was going to get that thing out without demolishing the entire rock face. Too much effort, anyway. At least he could use it as a makeshift seat after he wipes away the blood. He chuckles a bit at the thought of that… Yeah, like he’d do that. Too much to do, anyway.
Soon enough, though, he’s basically picked that corpse clean, and made sure to stuff that meat into his bag. The pelt, he could just carry on his crossbow, anyway. No sense in trying to figure out what there was and wasn’t to do.
“Hehe… Eat your left antler off, dad…” With a smirk, he stands up from that carcass, and raises his arms a bit. The carrion eaters would get their meal, if they wanted, so he shouldn’t be too worried about something like this, anyway. He turns towards his left, hefts his bag back onto his shoulders, and heads back over towards his crossbow, the massive thing now quiet once more. All in all,a  good day for hunting, and no one would get mad at him for not doing waht he was told. Like always.
After a bit of walking, the path in front of him opens up. Time for him to head home, if nothing else. He might as well let his mind wander while he gets back, anyway… For the most part, idle thoughts about the scenery enter his mind, and the path soon catches up to him a bit later. He liked this path, if anything. Lots to see, a ton to hear. Just like-
He shakes his head at that. No, no. None of that. She’s gone already. Nothing you can do to change that. Leave it be.
With a deep breath in through his nose, he lets out a sigh, the “aaaaah…” from his breath barely visible in the chill of the day… Wait… was that… smoke he smelled? He blinks for a moment or two before looking through the tree tops. That wasn’t right. The rest stop he had made a while back was too far for him to smell, even with a breeze! He shakes his head again… He needed more fresh air in his life, probably. He’ll just head on home, salt-cure the meat, and then head back towards the coast. That should help with things.
Thankfully, the path back home isn’t too far from where he stopped. With a small sigh, he starts to head around that small cliff face that separated his home grounds with that of the woods. No need to be in a place that could kill you if you don’t know what you’re doing, right? Besides, now that he’s home, he can tell his dad that he did ‘something for once’, according to him. Yeah, that should shut him up for a little while, at the very least. With a small smirk on his face, he turns around that rock wall-
Stone. That was all he saw. That, and the orange lick of fire. Just… masses of stone, wood, and fire sitting in the middle of the field. Ash hadn’t even begun to collect itself yet, and it was all just going up in flames. He felt something come loose from around his shoulders before thumping itself to the ground. His fingers went loose, too, the massive machine in his hands clattering to the forrest floor beside him.
“Wh… He… How… How dare…!” And like that, the deer starts to bolt towards the flames. The only person that he knew would do such a thing was probably already long gone. Empty threats coming from him certainly didn’t get fulfilled unless it was for good reason. That, or his father had finally lost his mind. No, no… his father was much too sane for that to happen. He knew what he was doing. He balls up his fists at the thought of that idiot of a man doing such a thing…
He spits off to the side. The taste in his mouth was getting worse by the second.
“Alright, yeah… fine… You wanna play like that, you big blasphemous bastard? I’ll play your damn game. Heh… hehe… yeah, sure. As the gods as my damn witnesses, I’ll play. I’ll play to win. Even if it kills me!!” And like that, he swings his foot towards a piece of charred wood off to the side. “YOU HEAR THAT, ASSHOLE?! I’LL WIN YOUR DAMN GAME!!”
Like that, he turns around, reaches for his bag, and hefts that crossbow back into his arms once morre. That massive contraption felt cool within his grip… Not at all like it used to. No, never like it used to. He shakes his head once again, and starts to head towards the beach. He could get to the mainland from there, couldn’t he?
The path wound its way through the other side of the forest, branches and rocks dotting the path every so often. Not like he cared. All he wanted to do now was win. All he wanted to do was get things straight once again. That, and find that dhingey he was looking for so he could get to the mainland. One thing at a time.
	Thankfully, the small alcove in the rock face by the beach was still there, and the boat he wanted along with it. He pulls that wooden craft out from that miniature cavern, and starts to push it towards the water. The “Laharla”, it was called. He remembers when he made those letters on the side with melted pitch. The thought meets his head for a moment or two before he rights himself, and pushes that boat towards the water. After tossing his gear and weapon into it, he hops in, grabs the oar off to his right, and uses it to push himself off of the embankment.
	“Sorry, mom, but I’m taking your damn boat.”
	It should just be a day or three before he could get to the mainland, at the very least.


	It had been at least a day or two since he had left. Two, if you counted sleep as one day. Either way, shore was upon him, People, boats, gulls, buildings, you name it, it was there. With a sigh, he paddles his way over towards one of the lower docks. Wood, by the look of it. Use what you’ve got, at least. By the time he’s close enough, he had gotten the side of that boat smacked against one of the pillars that dotted the place a few times… Not the best docking he’s ever done, but ihe could work on it later. He stands up, hefts himself up onto the dock, and gets to tying off the bow of his boat to the pillar. There, now he won’t be without a boat when he gets back.
	With a huff, he hefts his crossbow onto his back, then his pack, and lets out a sigh before turning back to the boat… For a moment, his mind races back to his childhood… The sound of a gentle voice, a tender pat on the shoulder, and the feeling of a warm embrace on his shoulders jars him from his reverie once more.
	“Don’t worry, mom, I’ll be back soon.”
	With a sigh, he turns towards the mainland once more, and starts walking. Each footstep clacks heavily on the wooden dock, and by the time the fground underneath him had changed, he was finally on land once again. Almost immediately, though, the sounds of people going about their lives assault his ears. Fishermen, city goers, riff raff, children, everything in between… Though, considering what he was there for, and what time of year it was, it wasn’t unexpected, was it?
	“Let’s see… Guild hall… guild hall…” This was feeling off to him… Though, considering what he’s got on his back, the number of stares going towards him wasn’t zero. He rubs his face once again, brushing his fingers against the side of his goggles, the sweat on his head instantly soaking his hand. Home was so much cooler, and less… filled with people. The sheer amount of body heat was getting to him. If this keeps up, he’s not going to be able to focus, and…
	Wait, where was he? Ugh, he’s lost, isn’t he? He lets out a grunt at the thought of having to ask for directions before turning towards his right. There were a few people over by the entrance to an alley, judging from the sound. Perfect.
	“Hey, you.” The deer calls out towards the group, causing the three of them to look up from their dice game. “You guys have a guild hall in this city, yeah? Where is it?”
	“Eh, piss off, doe boy.”
	“Hehe, ye, piss off, piss off!”
	“‘Ey, I know where it is! Up yer’ arse an’ ‘round th’ corner!” And like that, the three of them burst out laughing… For a moment or two, the deer’s eyelid twitches. Not what he wanted, but he could work with that.
	“...Right, okay, yeah, so, where’s the guild hall? Certainly not in this gods-forsaken shithole of a slum.” Slowly, the deer shrugs off the massive contraption into his hands, presses a button, and points it towards the three of them. “You mind pointing me in the right direction? Or, would you prefer to become shish-kebabs? Gods know I have enough ammo for all three of you, and then some.” For a moment or two, the dice players look confused…
	“...What, are you stupid or somethin’?”
	“Yeah, yeah, you stupid? You stupid?”
	“Kid, take that pansy shit, and go busy yerself, yeah?” The deer just gives the three of them a cold, hard stare… “A’right, a’right, listen. Go down this street, go a couple of blocks, take a left. Y’can’t miss it, even if you wanted to. Now go on, yeah? I’m tryin’ to win my shirt back.” And like that, the three of them simply turn back to their game…
	The deer lets out a huff, presses another button on the side of his contraption, and folds it up onto his back once more before heading down the path. Surprisingly easy, albeit anger-inducing. He’ll deal with more of that, surely. For now, though, he’ll be busy with trying to find his way there… he certainly didn’t trust those directions. No, not one bit. ...Oh, gods, they were actually right. There it was, a huge marble building with deep blue accent stones on the very front. The deer blinks for a moment before letting out another sigh. There he goes again doubting people, but what do they know, anyway? He had a game to win. So, without another thought, he shakes his head and starts towards the entrance.

	“NUMBER THREE OH SEVEN, NEXT!!” The sound of a voice echoing out into the air meets the deer’s ears. Well, at least he knew where he was going to find the recruiter. After taking a moment to take a look around, picking a ticket from a nearby ticket spool, and taking a seat on a (rather uncomfortable) wooden bench, he simply puts his left leg over his right, puts his chin in his hand, and sits there. With how quickly he got here, the phrase “hurry up and wait” comes to his head… He shakes that thought aside for the time being, though… What number did he even get…? After holding up his hand, and flipping that tiny ticket over, he lets out a sigh…

“382, huh...? I’ll be here for a while, I guess. Great.”