If the training grounds and the smithy were the beating, masculine heart of Blackwood Fortress, filled with the scent of fire and steel, then the newly expanded, massive livestock area in the northwest corner of the castle was the quiet yet vibrant stomach of this behemoth.
The busyness here lacked earth-shattering shouts or the harsh sounds of hammers, yet it still contained a breathtaking power.
Thousands of Frost-Horned Deer and Giant-Horned Oxen brought back from Giant Bear Ridge were housed in this vast enclosure, built by the Boar-folk using massive timber. The air was thick with a unique fragrance—a mixture of fodder, earth, and livestock—accompanied by the constant lowing and bleating, declaring that this land had been given a brand-new mission.
This was the battlefield of Aynil the Deer-folk.
Aynil was a rare elder among the Deer-folk. His physique was not as burly as the Werewolf Warriors, nor as robust as the Boar-folk, and he even had a slight hunch from years of labor. Yet, his eyes were like the gentlest amber, harboring the wisdom and extraordinary patience bestowed by time. His hands were covered in calluses, the marks left by constant dealings with the land and livestock.
Colin had entrusted him with the arduous task of taming these thousands of beasts; this was both a sign of trust and an unprecedented test.
Aynil felt not a shred of impatience. He knew deep down that in dealing with these creatures—freshly removed from the vast wilderness and filled with fear and fury—any hint of impatience could lead to an irreversible disaster.
He first gathered a few of the most gentle tribesmen under his command and began the long, patient work of domestication.
His first targets were precisely locked onto those relatively docile does and cows that were currently lactating or pregnant.
In the early morning, when the first ray of sunlight struggled thru the winter clouds, gilding the snow-white castle with a golden edge, Aynil would personally lead his quiet team into the enclosure where the female beasts were kept.
Their movements were as gentle as a breeze brushing over the treetops.
Each person carried a huge wooden bucket filled with carefully selected fodder. It was a "premium feed" made from the freshest grass harvested and dried in autumn, mixed with a small amount of ground beans and salt grains that would drive any herbivore wild.
They would not make loud noises, and they even kept their footsteps extremely light. Aynil walked in the front, humming an ancient, low, and rhythmic tune as he went. That tuneless humming seemed to carry a strange magic, capable of soothing the anxious souls of these creatures.
Initially, the female beasts in the pen were full of vigilance. They huddled together, watching the approach of these two-legged creatures with large, wet, anxious eyes. Their ears swiveled like radar; any slight disturbance would make their muscles tense, their hooves pawing the ground uneasily, ready to flee or attack at any moment.
Aynil stopped at a distance of thirty paces from them and made a gesture.
The Deer-folk behind him understood immediately; they gently placed the wooden buckets on the ground, then slowly retreated step by step until they were out of the enclosure. The entire process did not produce a single unnecessary sound.
Aynil himself sat cross-legged on the snow, neither too far nor too close to the bucket of aromatic fodder. He simply sat quietly, as if he had turned into a lifeless rock.
Time seemed to stand still at this moment.
The cold wind swirled with snow dust, blowing across the vast livestock area.
Finally, after a long standoff, a bolder Frost-Horned Deer, tempted by the delicious food, tentatively took a step forward. It stretched its neck, its nose twitching constantly in the air, confirming the source of the fragrance and whether the motionless humanoid creature posed a threat.
Its companions watched it nervously, emitting uneasy low sounds from their throats.
The doe walked a few more steps forward and finally reached the bucket. It lowered its head, quickly snatched a mouthful of fodder, then immediately jumped away as if startled, chewing vigilantly while observing Aynil's reaction.
Aynil remained motionless, not even batting an eyelid.
This small success gave the herd a huge boost. With the first "deer" to eat the crab, the rest of the female beasts gradually let down their guard. They cautiously gathered around, vying for the delicacies in the buckets. Soon, several buckets of fodder were completely emptied.
After eating and drinking their fill, their mood was noticeably more relaxed. Some of the female beasts even curiously examined the quiet figure in the distance, the vigilance in their eyes quietly diminishing a little.
Day after day, Aynil and his team repeated this boring yet Zen-like process in the same way.
From thirty paces, to twenty-five, then to twenty...
The distance they approached became shorter and sHe knew that spring was near.
The dawn of domestication had arrived.