Autumn 54 486
Cachajapar had his hand placed on the small of his father's back, just as he been asked to do, his head peeking around his father's body. They were both crouched, slowly moving through a dry patch of scrubs. His father stopped their slow movement and gently pulled him forward so they were side by side.
'Can you smell that?' his father asked at a whisper. The boy could smell something unpleasant and pungent so he nodded his head. 'Sky-Dogs don't like other animals around, so they will mark their territory with that smell. Remember it and you'll always know when you are getting close to a burrow.' The small boy nodded once more.
Cachajapar could still remember the stern face of the man who had come to their tent. They had talked about something that was killing the tribe's animals, a scavenger that was guided by an evil spirit. His father had nodded to the man and said he would handle it.
The boy was crouched behind his father once more as they continued to move, his father's head slowly moving from side as he searched their surroundings. He knew his mother had not been happy about him coming with his father. She had petulantly argued about the dangers to her little Cachajapar with her mild mannered husband for quite some time. But her husband reminded her that the boy's name day had gone and passed, they needed to give him a name or he would never know who he was.
Cachajapar did not mind, he liked it away from the tribe's tents, it was quiet and peaceful here. Not to mention that he liked being with his father, it made him safe and happy. His father had said he would be able to see what kind of man his son would grow to be by taking him hunting, that was the only reason his mother had let him come.
They stopped once more, the boy could feel something tingle against his fingertips, there was movement. His father slowly and silently removed an arrow from his quiver, before he went down on to one knee and notched the arrow. He had sighted a lean, long leggeded Sky-Dog up ahead. It was drinking from a small watering hole that was backed by a thick growth of scrubs, its short haired coat blending in to the surrounding foliage.
Cachajapar felt a gentle wind blow against his forehead. Stay down wind of your target his father had told him when they set out. Stay down wind or any beast will smell you and be gone before you even set eyes on it. Now though, his father focused on his target, pulling back the arrow and making the bow bend slightly as the string went taut. His father breathed in slowly and loosed the arrow.
The arrow was barely visible as it sped through the air, hitting the Sky-Dog on its hind quarters. The animal let out a yelp and tried to run, but its back legs just dragged across the dirt as it hopped around in a desperate circle. His father stood up at this point, taking aim with another arrow calmly, loosing it swiftly and it struck the beast in the side of its chest. The Sky-Dog let out another yelp and scrabbled in the dust.
The boy almost got left behind as his father moved forward briskly, but Cachajapur's short legs propelled him forward and he followed in his father's footsteps. As they got closer the beast made a mixture of growling and pittiful whining noises, its eyes full of fear. The boy's father drew a knife from his belt and dropped the bow to the desert sands. Cachajapur stopped at this point, his father pinning the Sky-Dog with one knee and clamping the beast's jaws shut with his spare hand.
He turned around to see the small boy had stopped just short, 'come closer son. This bit is important, a delay or a mistake will just prolong your prey's agony. Better to release its spirit before it suffers too much.'
Cachajapur was staring wide eyed, but did as his father asked and took a step forward.
Cachajapar had his hand placed on the small of his father's back, just as he been asked to do, his head peeking around his father's body. They were both crouched, slowly moving through a dry patch of scrubs. His father stopped their slow movement and gently pulled him forward so they were side by side.
'Can you smell that?' his father asked at a whisper. The boy could smell something unpleasant and pungent so he nodded his head. 'Sky-Dogs don't like other animals around, so they will mark their territory with that smell. Remember it and you'll always know when you are getting close to a burrow.' The small boy nodded once more.
Cachajapar could still remember the stern face of the man who had come to their tent. They had talked about something that was killing the tribe's animals, a scavenger that was guided by an evil spirit. His father had nodded to the man and said he would handle it.
The boy was crouched behind his father once more as they continued to move, his father's head slowly moving from side as he searched their surroundings. He knew his mother had not been happy about him coming with his father. She had petulantly argued about the dangers to her little Cachajapar with her mild mannered husband for quite some time. But her husband reminded her that the boy's name day had gone and passed, they needed to give him a name or he would never know who he was.
Cachajapar did not mind, he liked it away from the tribe's tents, it was quiet and peaceful here. Not to mention that he liked being with his father, it made him safe and happy. His father had said he would be able to see what kind of man his son would grow to be by taking him hunting, that was the only reason his mother had let him come.
They stopped once more, the boy could feel something tingle against his fingertips, there was movement. His father slowly and silently removed an arrow from his quiver, before he went down on to one knee and notched the arrow. He had sighted a lean, long leggeded Sky-Dog up ahead. It was drinking from a small watering hole that was backed by a thick growth of scrubs, its short haired coat blending in to the surrounding foliage.
Cachajapar felt a gentle wind blow against his forehead. Stay down wind of your target his father had told him when they set out. Stay down wind or any beast will smell you and be gone before you even set eyes on it. Now though, his father focused on his target, pulling back the arrow and making the bow bend slightly as the string went taut. His father breathed in slowly and loosed the arrow.
The arrow was barely visible as it sped through the air, hitting the Sky-Dog on its hind quarters. The animal let out a yelp and tried to run, but its back legs just dragged across the dirt as it hopped around in a desperate circle. His father stood up at this point, taking aim with another arrow calmly, loosing it swiftly and it struck the beast in the side of its chest. The Sky-Dog let out another yelp and scrabbled in the dust.
The boy almost got left behind as his father moved forward briskly, but Cachajapur's short legs propelled him forward and he followed in his father's footsteps. As they got closer the beast made a mixture of growling and pittiful whining noises, its eyes full of fear. The boy's father drew a knife from his belt and dropped the bow to the desert sands. Cachajapur stopped at this point, his father pinning the Sky-Dog with one knee and clamping the beast's jaws shut with his spare hand.
He turned around to see the small boy had stopped just short, 'come closer son. This bit is important, a delay or a mistake will just prolong your prey's agony. Better to release its spirit before it suffers too much.'
Cachajapur was staring wide eyed, but did as his father asked and took a step forward.
