[Mkguild] Dusk Hunt (1/1)

[C. Matthias]

Whew!  I managed three Metamor Keep stories in 
2017!  Maybe I'll write four in 2018!  This one 
is set in the current timeline (708) for those keeping track.


Metamor Keep: Dusk Hunt
by Charles Matthias

June 15, 708 CR

“It's late, Braeder! Dusk will be here soon.”

Braeder's masked face favored him with a 
sharp-fanged grin. The short, stout raccoon waved 
a clawed hand at the still-bright sky beyond the 
trees and scoffed. “It's June, Elbert. The sun 
hasn't even touched the mountains yet. We've at 
least two hours more to search.”

Elbert crossed his red-furred arms and flicked 
his long tail. “For a stupid cow. She was 
probably eaten by bears or wolves or wandered 
into the Haunted Woods. Besides, I thought you 
didn't need any help tracking down a cow.”

His younger brother scowled and glanced down at 
the tangle of brush following the stream. They 
had left the fields of Mycransburg behind only a 
candlemark before, but already the forest felt 
dense and wild. Even for a squirrel Elbert felt 
out of place here. “Aye, I did. But I lost her 
trail last night and...” he clicked his tongue 
against his teeth and hissed, “and you are the better tracker.”

Elbert felt a small flush of delight at his 
brother's admission, but he was still annoyed. 
“Then why not fetch me to help chase her down 
this morning? You know my eyes are not so good once night falls.”

Braeder shrugged and scratched the back of his 
neck. “Well, Master Gorthen always has so many chores for you...”

“As if he's ever stopped you before. Only last 
month you were sneaking ale from his larder.”

His brother tipped his head to one side, 
scratching his neck harder. “Well, it was only a 
few pints really. Nothing he'd miss...”

“And two months ago you convinced me to skip my 
chores to go fishing because you saw, let me see 
if I remember right, 'the biggest bass there ever 
was just leaping onto shore'.”

“Well aye, but those were fish!” His eyes 
glimmered as he said the word. “This is just a 
cow. No need to bother Master Gorthen or the other landsmen.”

Elbert sighed and flicked his tail before hopping 
a step to his brother's side. He nudged him with 
an elbow. “I think our mighty little scout here 
didn't want anybody else to know he needed help. Come on, admit it!”

Braeder ground his fangs together and a snarl 
escaped his throat. “Oh, fine! Aye, I have a 
reputation to keep you know! So you've come this 
far; are you going to help me find this cow or what?”

Elbert chittered and scratched one cheek, 
blinking his eyes and flicking his tail a time or 
two at his brother before finally tilting his 
head back and in an exaggerated sigh declare, 
“Oh, very well, I suppose I can lend the mighty 
little scout my feeble aid in finding a lost cow! 
You owe me some chores for this you know. I could 
be enjoying a pint of ale with a heaping plate of 
Mistress Rosalie's walnut pie right now.”

Braeder rolled his eyes. “Walnut pie! Nut-muncher!”

“Grub-washer!”

“Cheek-stuffer!”

“Trash-sniffer!” And so saying, Elbert lunged and 
grabbed his brother in a head-lock, and mussed 
his head-fur with his knuckles. “Eh, little brother?”

Braeder batted his shoulders with his hands until 
the squirrel let go, laughing the whole time. 
“All right! All right! I'll buy you a walnut pie 
when we get back. Fair enough? Can we go find this cow now, please?”

“Fair enough. Show me the trail and where you lost it.”

The pair continued into the woods. Elbert didn't 
need his younger brother's help in spotting the 
old heifer's trail; where there were no 
hoof-marks trodden through the blanket of moss 
there were snapped branches from her passage; 
what few patches of grass and wildflowers they found had been denuded.

The brothers kept silent as they moved. They 
walked bare pawed as did most animal-cursed 
scouts – climbing trees and bracing in the dirt 
was easier with claws, and if something should 
happen to them, it would be simple to follow 
their tracks for there would be nothing else like 
them in the deep woods. Elbert could see the few 
tracks Braeder had left behind the previous night 
following a pace or two beside the cow's. His 
brother's steps last night had been cautious and 
slow, deliberate and chosen for silence. The 
steps they left behind this evening were 
unhurried and even – a natural walking pace.

The forest sloped downward from the hillside on 
which Mycransburg sat nestled against the 
mountains. Most of the decline was shallow enough 
it did not even feel like they were going down 
but they would know they were heading uphill on 
the way back. This made it easy for cows to 
wander into the woods and get lost but as they 
continued, Elbert realized he'd never seen one go 
quite so far. The markers for the Haunted Woods 
were still a good distance to the north, but the 
closeness of the heavy-set trees, the suffocating 
layers of moss and ivy crawling over every 
exposed inch of dirt and bark, and the muffled 
noises of normal birds and squirrels in the 
branches overhead gave the woods an eerie cast he did not like.

“Here we are,” Braeder whispered after hopping 
down a large boulder into a shallow gully. The 
boulder was crisscrossed with little gouges from 
centuries of rain providing an easy path to 
descend. Elbert saw a single hoof-print in a bit of dirt filling a gouge.

But once he reached the base of the stone he 
could see his brother was right. There were no 
more hoof-marks and there were no broken branches 
or even a single cropped blade of grass. He 
scratched his head and flicked his tail as he 
stared at the boulder and then scoured the 
surrounding trees. No wonder his brother had come 
to him for help. It was as if the cow had stepped 
into the air and never landed nor left. But where was it?

The small glade darkened as the sun set behind 
the southern mountains and Elbert muttered a 
curse under his breath. He clicked his tongue on 
his incisors and set his pack in front of him. 
“What are you doing?” Braeder asked as he leaned over his brother.

“Fetching my lantern. I told you I have trouble seeing at night.”

“Aw, but I love the night! Lanterns ruin everything.”

“Well, then you find the cow for yourself.”

“Fine, fine!” Braeder grimaced and kicked at the 
ground, sending a couple of loose stones 
clattering among the trees. Elbert bit back a reprimand.

Once his raccoon brother stopped pestering him 
the squirrel had no trouble finding his lantern 
and flint. There was enough oil for about four 
hours but he hoped they'd be enjoying walnut pie 
with a tankard of ale by then. He lit the wick on 
the first try and after a quarter-turn had a 
vibrant yellow flame. He lifted it and scanned 
the weird shadows flickering between the trees. 
His nose stretched and he breathed in stale airs. 
The wind was still and all he could find was the 
familiar and comforting scent of his brother.

While Braeder watched – and kicked at the moss 
and the dirt beneath it – Elbert pored over the 
stone and brambles where the cow last left its 
mark. Even with the additional light he could 
make out nothing new. After a candlemark he just 
shook his head. “It's as if the cow stepped off 
the stone and floated away. No, 'tis foolish! There must be something!”

Elbert took a strip of leather and put it between 
his incisors to gnaw while he thought. He cast a 
glance at his brother and saw Braeder had dredged 
up several stone chips and was pushing them into 
a pile with his toes. He rolled his eyes and 
walked around the circle of trees, lifting his 
lantern high and then low to make the shadows 
move. He could see the passage of smaller 
creatures, and even where Braeder had struck out 
the night before in his vain search.

“Why did you go this way?” Elbert asked as he pointed into the trees.

Braeder flipped one of the stones over his toes 
and then turned his head. He grimaced, wriggling 
his snout, and shrugged. “I thought I saw 
something down there. Turned out to be a stream 
going toward the Haunted Wood. It didn't even 
have any fish in it.” He said the last as if it had been a personal affront.

Elbert listened and after a short time he could 
hear the gentle tumble of water over stone. The 
stream was probably only there during the Spring 
thaw. In another month or two it would dry up and 
flow only when it rained. “The cow would have 
gone for water. But I don't even see a deer trail 
through here. Did you see anything down there?”

“No hoof-marks. No bits of hide stuck in 
branches. Nothing. The cow didn't go there.”

Elbert sighed and then hooked the lantern to his 
belt. He put his hands on the nearest oak, and 
then jumped upward. His claws dug into the bark 
and after a few seconds he'd scaled up to the 
first awning of branches. A measure of confidence 
filled him as he surveyed the close-packed woods 
and a smile graced his snout. He loved being in 
trees. Even before he became a squirrel he loved 
to climb the ones near the fields. He often 
pondered what life was like in the giant trees of 
Glen Avery; if not for his brother and their 
friends here he would have left last year to join their scouts.

“Do you see anything up there?”

“Nothing yet. I...” Elbert's voice caught in his 
throat when his eyes lifted to the branches still 
above him. Several of them had been broken and 
thin hairs were caught between them. He traced 
each break back toward his brother and saw a 
straight line to the boulder. He turned and 
followed another line arcing back to the ground 
beyond their sight. He chittered and bit hard on the strap of leather.

“Braeder, something very strange is happening. The cow went through the tree.”

“What?”

“You heard me, fish-for-brains! The cow went through the tree!”

“How can a cow climb through a tree?”

“It can't! Somebody must have used magic to bring 
it through. But who would do such a thing...” His 
eyes widened and he turned and jumped back out of 
branches. “Let's get out of here. I don't like this.”

Braeder crossed his arms. “Would you make sense, 
brother? What are you talking about?”

Elbert grabbed the raccoon by the shoulder and 
pointed into the tree. “There's some magic at 
work here! Some magic lifted the cow and carried 
her through the tree. It can't be the Haunted 
Wood, we're not close yet. It has to be a Lutin 
shaman. This where we are standing is a trap!”

Braeder's eyes widened and he cast a furtive 
glance around. “I hate Lutins! Let's go!”

They ran for the boulder and the path back home. 
But they stopped in shock and stared gaped mouth 
at what sat there in the shadows. Its legs, 
crossed beneath it, were those a wolf. Its chest 
was covered in heavy furs, and a slightly 
distorted face, not quite muzzle, not quite 
human, greeted them. Furred ears were high and 
attentive on his skull, and one hand was held in 
his lap. Two baubles rested against each other 
there. One glimmered a bright orange; the other was dull.

The creature smiled, a long red tongue passing 
across beastly fangs. From behind them three 
wolves loped out of the woods on silent paws. 
“Hello my little ones,” the creature said. “We need your help.”

----------

Two hours later, Braeder bought Elbert the 
promised walnut pie. They never found the cow.

----------

May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,

Charles Matthias
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