Iron Rations

Lyall Hound- The Hunt

5 years later...

It was only early November, but the cold was already intent on freezing everything.

I lay in bed, watching the wooden ceiling above me, damp and creaking. The snow fell quietly outside, and the bed is warm.

The sound of a cannon spitting out a cannonball seemed too out of place.

I groaned quietly, wanting to force some sleep into my tired body. Part of me wanted to get out of the house and hunt, to hear the crunch of leaves undrneath worn-out boots and the cold tickling the back of my neck but the lazy part of me wanted to sleep, to spend the day in bed, musing about life and wondering if there's something better for me to do than just get into the woods and take some poor creature's life for survival.

Shiv's screech made the part that wanted to hunt win out.

I stood up and removed my damp shirt. Despite the eternal coldness in the country of Werravinn, I still sweat when I sleep. Probably because of the nightmares every night, and every wise man knows when you have those, you're pretty much prone to jerking and screaming when you sleep. That's also the reason my throat is uncomfortably dry.

After putting on a new shirt and a weathered jacket I had used on a thousand hunts, I stared at myself at the mirror.  A pair of silver eyes stared back. I suddenly remembered my mother. Though I looked like my father, I had my mom's silver eyes. When I was younger, my mother's eyes used to scare me, because they appear so feral, so cold, in the dark, like the eyes of some kind of demon from the old stories. It took several talks with my father before I managed to talk to my mother during the night.

I felt a strange pang of longing for my parents. Though they've been dead for four years now, not a day goes by without me missing their company. The way father pats my shoulder after a good hunt. The way mother hugs me on stormy nights. Ever since they died, I was alone.

Another one of Shiv's impatient screeches made me get out of my room and into the kitchen. Shiv perched on the back of a chair, staring at me with her unblinking amber gaze. Her left leg was twitching, and she looked impatient. She was starving, and ready to hunt. She wanted to fly and wrap her talons around some unfortunate prey's neck.

She wanted to kill.

I extended my arm, and she hopped to it, digging her talons into my skin. When my parents were still alive, I used a glove when she does this. But now, with only her for family, I threw away the glove and allowed her to perch freely on my skin. I didn't care if it hurts. Somehow, losing your family means a sort of hunger for human contact. But I wasn't one to go around asking for hugs, so touches from my falcon are enough. It's proof that someone actually acknowledges my existences, and is grateful I'm alive.

I stroked the back of her head with one knuckle, relishing the fact she was a living creature, one of the few living creatures who actually like my company.

Shiv screeched a third time, and I opened a cabinet and pulled out breakfast: roasted duck, currently wrapped in foil. I unwrapped it, tore off a piece and tossed it slightly in the air. Shiv caught it in her beak, and I tore off a piece for myself.

After breakfast, we went out of the house. Once we were outside, exposed to the cold, Shiv cried out before spreading her enormous wings and flying off. If followed her to the woods.

The woods are the exact opposite of the house. It was cold, and there wasn't anything to remind me of my parents. Shiv screeched at me, and I whistled back. In the quiet, the woods became alive with sounds. There was a faint rustle to my left, and I could hear mellow birdsong on my right, slightly above my head. The birdsong ended as soon as Shiv shrieked and flew ahead of me. No need to worry. She'll come in a snap when I need her.

I walked quietly, thankful that the snow wasn't too deep today, or my feet will end up sinking. Leaves crunched quietly underneath my boots, and as I expected, the cold air tickled the back of my neck deftly. The birdsong started again, and I heard another scuffle. This time, it was louder and clearer. I could almost feel Shiv beside me. Her head eprked up with interest, her eyes glimmering with excitement to kill. I turned, and saw it. A rabbit.

I gazed upward and met Shiv's eyes. When I turned back to our prey, the rabbit stared back at me. Then it bolted.

"Shiv!" I shouted. Shiv cried out before flying after the prey. I ran after the rabbit too, a dagger already in my hand. My pulse quickened, and I could feel the beat of a hunt. The rabbit ran ahead of me in zigzag. I ran faster. Shiv sailed smoothly above me, but despite her calm flight, her eyes are glinting with the eagerness to kill. I know I must have almost the same desperate, hungry look in my eyes.

Shiv suddenly swooped down on the rabbit, but it was flexible. It easily bounded away from her claws and entered a hole.

I stopped running and Shiv landed on a branch beside me. We lost the prey.

Shiv screeched unhappily, and I felt almost as bad as her. The prey may be small, but it's still prey. And prey means money, and money means food. Food means survival.

I stroked Shiv's back reassuringly, silently telling her that there are still thousands of rabbits out there to kill. Though Shiv may be a falcon and we do not speak the same language, I know she understands me to some extent. Right now, she didn't believe me. I see it by the stare she gave me which sort of said "You think I'm stupid enough to believe you?"

"It was a good one, really," I muttered earnestly, avoiding her gaze. I extended my arm. "We'll try again. I think I can hear a fox somewhere."

Shiv wasn't easily fooled by my fib. She spread her wings and flew away.

I sighed. Shiv wouldn't rest until she can find a replacement for the rabbit.