The morning sky was a bruised grey, the rain easing just enough to make travel possible. The forest steamed from days of downpour, releasing a heady scent of wet leaves and rich soil. A small group of hunters, bows slung and spears in hand, moved in silence through the dripping undergrowth.
Kael walked near the front, his strides steady, his eyes scanning the shadows between trees. Beside him was Rynar, his long-time hunting partner, a man known for his sharp instincts and easy grin. They had hunted together so often that they rarely needed words—just a glance or a gesture, and each knew what the other meant.
The hunt today was not for sport—it was for survival. With the river running high and fields too waterlogged for harvest, the village needed fresh meat. But the rains had driven the prey deeper into the forest, and danger lurked with every step.
A rustle in the ferns drew Kael's attention. He held up his hand, signaling the others to halt. Rynar slid forward silently, crouching low. Through the screen of wet leaves, a wild boar stood, its massive shoulders slick with rain, tusks gleaming pale in the dim light.
Kael nocked an arrow, waiting for the right moment. But the wind shifted, and the boar's head jerked up—its black eyes locking on them. With a guttural roar, it charged.
"Scatter!" Rynar barked.
The forest exploded into motion—men diving aside, arrows loosed. Kael rolled to his feet and planted himself between the boar and a younger hunter who had stumbled. The beast thundered closer, mud spraying from its hooves.
"Now!" Kael shouted.
Rynar lunged from the side, spear aimed true. The weapon struck deep, but the boar's momentum carried it forward, nearly knocking Kael flat. He twisted aside at the last second, grabbing the spear shaft and driving it further until the beast collapsed with a final shudder.
For a moment, only the sound of rain filled the air. Then the hunters exhaled as one.
"You're getting slow, Kael," Rynar said with a grin, his voice light despite the mud streaking his face.
Kael smirked back. "Or you're just getting lucky."
The rest of the hunt went more smoothly—rabbits, a pair of deer, and more small game, all carried back through the slick forest trails. By the time they returned to the village, shoulders aching but spirits high, the rain had thickened again into a silver curtain.
Charlisa met Kael at the edge of the clearing, her eyes flicking from him to the heavy haul of meat. "You're soaked," she said, but her voice was warm with relief.
"And alive," Kael replied, brushing past her with a tired smile. "That's all that matters."