CH 58 Hunting Trip
As reduced as they were, the natural sounds of the forest spoke of safety, at least for the present moment. As the lowest on the food chain, the little creatures were always the most sensitive to danger.
Gilda balanced on her hind legs as she carefully moved into position. With deft talons, she nocked an arrow and drew. The near-silent creek of the bow was almost deafening. She sighted along the arrow and grimaced at the slight curve it had picked up. Mentally, she cursed the cheapskate that took the talon full of bits for themself. So instead of talons of arrows there instead, there had been only a single half-full quiver. They had more bows than functional arrows to start with.
Her stomach growled. The empty hollow of hunger gnawing did wonders to refocus her priorities. They needed food.
She watched her dinner-to-be graze peacefully. Completely oblivious that its simple life would soon be over. How hungry would she need to get to see a cow or even a pony as nothing but walking meat?
Her mind drifted to Dash, the one pony she knew that accepted this part of her. The horizon offered no answers to the fate of her friend. With all the craziness that normally came up in the pony nation, and now the tainted monsters flowing from its borders, she just knew the arrogant mare would be right in the thick of things.
Her meal shifted and moved further to the undergrowth, clearly seeking more green to graze upon. Her eyes narrowed, and she slowly released the tension on the string. If the arrow had been perfect, she would have taken the shot.
She stowed the bow and stalked closer. She had to be sure of the shot. Each talon and paw found their place in utter silence as Gilda crept ever closer.
By that time, she was almost drooling. Just the idea of the meat that was about to be hers made haste far too tempting. Her prey was so close now. She could keep up with Rainbow Dash. A dumb prey beast should be no challenge. Her talons scored the ground. She could just imagine the unresisting soil to be her meal's soft, delicate flesh. One surge of motion and hot blood would be pouring down her throat.
Expertly, she found her spot, and as quietly as a ghost, she readied her bow. Her talons wanted to rip and tear, and it took far more effort than she would ever admit not to crush her bow in her grip. And this is why we buy most of our food… hunting always awakened her more feral side.
She gave herself a moment to steady herself, mastered her breathing and put the beast away. Archery was a skill for a keen eye and a calm mind, and it was no place for the visceral red-tinged passion of talon-to-talon brawling.
She breathed in and slowly let it out. Her eyes locked on her prey, and she drew. She could already taste the fresh meat. She lined up her shot, her aim like any true hunter for the sweet spot that ensured a quick kill.
As if guided by an outside force, she knew just the perfect moment to lose her shot.
A sharp eagle's cry rang out. Her feast flinched. Gilda’s perfectly aimed arrow just kissed her prey’s coat before it was swallowed by a sea of green. The animal bolted, vanishing into the deeper forest. Birds scattered from their perches as the whole forest went on alert.
Gilda held in the frustrated roar that fought to escape. "If this is another false alarm," she growled as her splayed talons promised blood.
She took to the air, where wings pounded the air as if she could beat it into submission. Raw physicality propelled her through the air faster than any but a single pony.
She swung her head around and sought any threat. Three then four other hunters joined her in the air. The slower hauled a large beast. "At least somegriff caught something." She glanced around again. “Where is Grean?”
The others started looking around as the armoured lookout flew closer.
"Head hunter," a trembling voice called.
A jolt of fear pulsed through her veins even before her eyes found it. Far below, the shambling abomination crept from the deep forest. Bile rose in Gilda’s throat as she watched the thing's fluid movements.
The Head Hunter’s form was revolting, torn chunks of flesh woven together by inky thorn coverd vines. Dozens of wooden protrusions made the thing look a little like a porcupine. Each an arrow, javelin or spear, and each a testament to a failed attempt to kill the beast.
As if its corrupted form was not bad enough. Three still living griffon heads emerged from the thing's chest as if worn as a perverted necklace.
The thing's head shifted, melting into a new shape. It formed a huge fanged maw just to smile with. With almost tender care, a vine snaked out and caressed its three trophies. The griffons' heads twitched. Their eyes, filled with a desperate plea for relief, found Gilda's own.
It moved into the open, all the better to be seen. As if presenting a heartwarming gift, the beast placed a bow, just like Gilda's own, and a quiver full of arrows on the ground.
The thing’s smile turned to a smirk as the maw melted back into the churning mass. It turned and sauntered back into the darkened depths of the forest.
Just before it disappeared from view, it raised one limb in a casual wave as if they were parting friends.
That was the last straw. The icy vice that gripped Gilda's heart shattered under the burning in her chest. A furious roar erupted from her. She would kill it. She would rend it limb from limb with her own talons. She thrashed and beat her wings. She clawed at the air in a vain attempt to get to the target of her rage. For some reason, nothing worked. She moved no closer to her target.
A small thread of rationality noticed what had happened. The sting of pain as sharp points pressed into her flesh as incidental damage. Only two sets of strong talons restrained her long enough to realise what she almost did.
Her snarl died down to a defeated sigh. "I'm good.” It was a lie, but she had to say something to prove she was thinking again. She shuddered at just the thought of what would have happened to her. One touch, just the slightest contact with the abomination and there would be no escape.
“Thank you,” Gilda admitted.
Her comrades released her and her wings caught her in a hover before she even started to fall.
An armoured griffon nodded to Gilda and then pointed to the parting gift. She returned the nod. It made sense, everygriff knew she was the fastest.
She passed her bow and quiver off to another and propelled herself into a power dive. The ground rushed up towards her, and her talons flashed out. Her wings screamed their protests as she shot back into the skies.
For a long moment, her eyes refused to look away from where she could almost feel the Head Hunter lurking just out of sight. A shudder fought to show her fear to the world, but she crushed the impulse.
As she settled into an effortless hover, she examined her prize. Like last time each arrow was perfectly made. Carved bone heads and fletched with griffon primaries. Her talon stroked the familiar red of the fletching. Her talons ached to do something, but the anger faded to grief. She could not help but imagine the next time they saw the head hunter. Another head would have turned the set of three into a quartet of agony.
She seethed. How could they be so weak? This was just one monster, one twisted use of magic, and none of them could do anything to it. Gilda closed her eyes You will be avenged. It was not much but it was all she could do.
The flight back felt very much like fleeing with her tail between her legs. Nothing they could do, no weapon they possessed could even slow that monster.
The eyes that greeted them were the worse. Each started with joy and hope when they saw the feast they carried. Moments later, when they realised the count of those that returned was one lower, sadness and anger took root.
I don't know how much longer we can take this.
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good chapter
Well, that was fun. Not. Note to self, don't live where Gilda lives.
Oh boy. Hopefully there is some sort of rescue possible for those caught by the headhunter, but if not, then at least hopefully they'll soon get relief...
This little magic warcrime NMM thought up gets more terrifying by the chapter. Now you can add even more body horror and fates worse than death to the list.
Hot damn I love this story...
Bit short, but at least this is still alive.
Be a shame for it to be abandoned.
11234085
And note she bever evencast it
Thinking about it. With the blight pushing its way out, consuming everything in its path; Luna and her guard trying to contain and neutralize it; Twilight raising an army of super soldiers (I use the term loosely); the changelings now controlling Manehatten and spreading their influence by safeguarding towns and villages; and Moonlit Scroll gathering refugees for his ritual (which, by the way, I think he has gone way overkill on). This country was imploding before but now it's just being divided up. What has Celestia been doing this whole time, at this rate Equestria may not exist when this is over?
Also, perhaps I just missed a clue but what actually happened to Manehatten? I knew it was damaged and people were displaced (hense the refugees) but to hear that the whole place is now completely uninhabitable for pony life and it wasn't the changelings fault. Didn't Cpt. Moonstone Crusher work a case there not too long ago? Where did this poison (or radiation I don't remember) come from?
Also I'm pretty sure Manehatten was the largest population center and trading port in the country so with it gone they are sevearly crippled economically as is their connection to the world stage. They're even more isolated than they were before. At this point the great battle between Team Twilight and Celestia is looking more and more like it simply isn't going to happen. It won't need to the polotics will be impossible to ignore and Celestia’s failure is too great.
11236047
reread chapter 1 ...then you know what happened to manehatten
11234174
Sorry for the delay, having to move house as the landlords selling it.
11233936
Thank you.
11233965
Thank you :)
In these times, don't live anywhere without sufficient magical protections.