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The Thrill of the Hunt

Red had thought that everything would go back to like it had been with the last of his former comrades dead. His family was safe. Nobody would seek vengeance against him anymore. But instead he'd wake up in cold sweat every night, plagued by dreams of killing anyone who got in his way. And...some who even didn't.

"You should come with me to see grandma," his sister insisted one morning, and Red noticed he had only been staring at his breakfast instead of eating it.

"Why?" he asked before biting into the fresh bread generously coated with red jam made of forest berries. It tasted too sweet, but he said nothing. He never said anything to make her unhappy.

She folded her hands on her lap. "You look like you're so far away. I thought that...maybe she could help."

He reached across the table to ruffle her hair like she was still a little girl. "Don't worry about it. I just haven't slept very well lately."

She smiled a little. "Father will get a good price for the pelts. And I'll weave more. I know you're always thinking so much of us, but you shouldn't blame yourself for the scarce prey."

He wasn't worried about that. He had already done the hunting for the furs they sold in town during winter. Summertime was quieter, with the focus on catching some meat for their own table.

But getting out of the house would probably do him good. He pushed back his chair and stood up. "I'll walk with you part of the way."

~*~*~

After parting ways with his sister, Red tracked down a young deer buck. He was downwind, and his prey had not noticed him yet. One shot to the head and it would be a clean kill.

Something alerted him to possible danger. Maybe it was the very faint rustling of leaves above him. Maybe he had developed a sixth sense for anyone watching him with predatory intent. In any case, he dodged to the side right on time as almost seven feet of muscle and black fur dropped down to where he had been crouching. The deer he had been stalking fled, alerted by the sound of impact.

He sighed. "I thought that wolves couldn't climb trees."

The wolf in question rolled over to sit on the ground, trying to appear confident despite his failed assault. "Lots of things you don't know we can do."

"I do know that you just ruined my hunt."

The wolf snorted. "You call that a hunt? You're just keeping your distance and relying on your toys."

"This 'toy' ensures a clean kill. No needless fear or suffering."

He jumped back to his feet. "No thrill of the chase, no honorable battle to the end."

"I don't care about your ideas of honor," Red snapped. Someone who would hunt defenseless young women was in no position to talk of such concepts.

"Someone acts like they slept in an anthill."

He was absolutely not in the mood for being teased. Frankly, he just wanted to shoot this animal and be done with it.

"If you call yourself a hunter, put that away and hunt with me for real. Run through the woods until you feel it with your every bone. I dare you."

"Hmph." He holstered his gun and pulled the long hunting knife he kept in a sheath strapped to his leg. He usually only used it for skinning and cutting up the kills, but it had served him well for self-defense a few times when a predator had gotten too close. "Fine. But since you caused me to lose that deer, you find it again."

"Easy." He inhaled deeply through his nose to catch the scent. "Try to keep up. I won't wait for you."

Then he switched into fully wolf form and ran off on all four legs. Red gave chase.

Not half an hour later they had found a deer buck. He wasn't sure if it was the same one, but it would make a good catch nonetheless. He rubbed his legs a little to ease the soreness in them. He was more used to walking than running, and he knew that the real test would only start now. No matter how close they got, the buck would run. Fast.

The wolf shifted again. He probably couldn't speak as fully animal. "I'll drive him towards you. Try not to get trampled."

"You don't need to tell me how to hunt," he replied icily.

"Hey, suit yourself. Just a fair warning." As Red didn't comment, he sneaked away.

He knew he'd only get one attempt as their prey ran past him. He waited patiently, just like a predator would, holding firmly to the hilt of his knife. Then he leaped.

His free hand grabbed one of the horns as he hit the buck's side. He had miscalculated just how strong the animal was. Instead of cleanly stabbing the jugular vein of the neck, he did draw blood but missed anything vital before being thrown back to the ground.

The wolf didn't stop to check on him. He only ran after the deer. Red cursed under his breath – no broken bones at least -, got back to his feet and followed as fast as he could.

Sharp claws and teeth slowed down their prey even further, although also the other hunter was dislodged from the animal's back.

That was his chance! Not waiting for the wolf to recover either, he attacked the injured animal again, blade stabbing at its neck and shoulders. The entire world felt like it was moving in slow motion. The deer fell to its side. He barely avoided it falling on top of him.

And then it was over. He sat back on his legs heavily, his chest heaving.

His heartbeat gradually started to slow down as the blood covering his hands rapidly cooled. The feeling of euphoria remained. He had played the role of the good son, of the responsible older brother, that he had been before the war for so long that not distancing himself from everything for once felt unbelievably liberating. Not that he would ever cause his family pain by showing anything than that side to them, but he could get used to this freedom of the wild.

He noticed that the wolf was busily eating on the other side of the carcass. Curious, he cut off a small piece of fresh meat and brought it to his mouth.

It really didn't taste very good. He'd still rather eat his food cooked any day. But each to their own. There was no reason at all to even try to teach an animal to appreciate human cooking. He flopped down to sit in a more comfortable position and started cleaning his hunting knife while waiting for his hunting companion to finish. He could at least say thanks before leaving.

Eventually the wolf stopped eating and straightened to his full height. "So...how was it?" he asked with a canine grin.

"Not bad."

"That's all?"

He inspected his knife. Clean and sharp again. "I could do it again someday."

"I knew you'd think so."

There was a brief silence. The kind that just waited for something to happen.

"What?" Red asked. He had a feeling that the wolf was looking at him like prey.

"I was thinking...I still want to dominate you. But seeing your strength, I might consider submitting too."

What the heck was he talking about again?

"Human males mount each other for pleasure when females aren't available too, don't they?"

"Do you want to be the next thing I cut up with this?" he asked, pointing his knife to the wolf's direction.

The wolf licked his chops once and morphed into his most human-like form. "Why not try it out first? You might find out you like it too."

He wasn't that bad to look at like that either. The black fur had changed into form-fitting pants and a vest barely covering the muscles underneath. Red stood, took the few steps to reach him and rubbed the texture between his fingers. It was definitely still fur. "Does this come off or does it only look like clothes?"

The wolf's tail moved a little, like on its own, and he licked his lips again. "Only one way to find out, right?"

Red returned his knife to its sheath. "Don't expect to be treated like a lady."

"Heh. Just show me what kind of beast you reallyare under that cold mask."

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