The Hambeasts squinted in the night. I could almost see the dirty little hears that infested their quadro-snouts (My vision was excellent through torturing the vision enhancement techniques out of the Vita-Men that ventured into my land daily). Thankfully for me the Hambeasts had terrible vision. With four snouts to every head, as you can imagine, their sense of smell was the best in Habitica. I refrained from taking Fenrir as he may scare them off with his pungent (yet clean for a Shade Lion) odor and as far Sqwabbler...he squawks too much. I shook my head as I remembered the last Hambeast hunting expedition where that daft bird decided to be clever by trying to sneak behind the Hambeast herd...wearing a disguise of dry leaves. Now granted the average Hambeast is pretty stupid...but even they know dead leaves don't congregate in little heaps only to move towards the nearest group of grazing animals when they aren't looking. I mean seriously, even if they can't see him moving, they could hear the rustle of the leaves from a mile away. If they ever make some sort of play out of such bafoonish antics, I will bet my gherkin armor that Sqwabbler would be the star. Anyway, enough said of that.
It looked away. It's gaze was fixed dead towards me but I was a ghost to it.I had no armor on me this time, too noisy, too risky. I left the cabin with my clothes on my back and my training sword. Useless in battle but a fine weapon in a case such as this. You'll see why.
Finally, night had fully arrived, and my little victim-herd had settled in for the night, resting in the tall grass. I moved swiftly, purposefully, until, I was closest to the head Hambeast. A boorish brute he was. 3 feet long and red from head to tail. 8 sharp tusks guarded his quadro-snout and copious amounts of disgusting flem exited from the orifices freely as the creature slept. The wound from this type of game was usually fatal. Not only would you be gored by two or more tusks, but the contact with the disgusting snouts and diseases they carried guaranteed you an instant infection as well. Now, you had to be careful with how close you were. Too close and they would charge you. Too far and they would run away, wasting your valuable time. I positioned myself an optimal distance away and shouted in the direction of the head boor. The creature grunted loudly and got to it's feet..but wait? It's ears were pinned to it's scalp. That's a sign of submission. That would mean....
A muted deep roar of indignation was all the warning I received as a Boss Sow Hambeast appeared! I knew this was too easy! She must have been rummaging to the left of me while the rest of her herd was right in front of me. She punched out of the bushes to my left as I dodged back, just barely avoiding her gruesome tusks. She was a four foot long monster and boy was she angry! She jumped into the bushes to the right as I tried to collect myself. If I ran towards the rest of the pack they would tear me to pieces while she took me down from the back. If I headed up the way I came, she could still gore me in the back. The safest area was where I was, but she was only visible for a few seconds as she jumped from one bush to another. There was only one thing to do...
I got ready for her next attack, as she passed by, I pivoted sideways and grabbed onto the closest ear as she passed by while simultaneously holding the training sword by the butt. Ears are curious things. So small, yet they cause such extreme pain. We use them to steer children in the right direction and funnily enough they work the same way with Hambeasts. They are close enough to the ground to grab and the beast is so elongated that grabbing them is not immediately fatal. The Boss Sow almost skidded to a stop to face me in confusion as I gripped it's ear as if it owed me something. I then used the sword butt to pummel the beast into submission before...well you can guess the rest.
The alluring aroma of Ham filled the little cabin as I grunted in satisfaction. Fenrir was outside gnawing on a legbone and I was just finishing up baking a batch of bread on the hearth. Being entirely famished from the day and the hunt, I did not have time to properly dress the meat. I decided to cut a loaf in half stuff the cooked (Slightly burnt...I like it that way) meat in the inside and just eat it like that, washing it down with a frothy mug of milk ofcourse. Barbaric I know, but what is a lonely warrior to do? Perhaps if a comely lass were to walk into this warriors life..but no enough of such daydreaming. As I bit into my hastily made creation I thought to myself that the loaf and meat made quite a pleasing combination. Perhaps I shall have this again someday.
Checklist Task: Prepare Lunch for Next Day (One of the sandwiches prepared was just ham...no cheese!)
