A Hunter's Principles
DWC Day 3 - Twitterpated/Primal
Our story continued from here...
T/W: Animal death and dispatchment in minimal description; Allusion to abuse and torture
@daily-writing-challenge
The following morning was a quiet one, the forest yet to stir with the rising sun. Low hanging clouds were slowly dissipating from the forest floor like twisting tendrils of smoke rising from the smoldering grounds, fresh dew left in the wake of this fog. Susan hadn't gotten much sleep the night prior, too invested in reflecting on the mind map she cultivated through her brief walk. The location she had chosen was proven to be wealthy with life, animals of every nature meandering around her site at their own behest -- Avoiding trampling through her little section of peace thanks to the contribution of the tigresses.
But as beautiful and quiet as the day started, it had actually begun with a start for Susan; The relief of stirring and realizing it was only a terrible nightmare did little to calm her hammering heart.
It had been like a crossing of times and planes. Or worse... Like she had never left to begin with... She so vividly could feel it. Back in the cold, damp darkness of her dungeon cell, hidden beneath a kingdom long ago wrecked and sundered from civil war. A once magnificent castle now decrypt and ruined had become the home of a particularly gracious host. Such who were free with their judgement and damnation, who collected guests to make examples of them for their pupils -- She had been one such unlucky example, one who's affiliations to degeneracy and sin was harped on as truly ruinous to the world. She could hear the laughter still, ringing in her ears with a level of intensity that could drive her mad.
She could still smell the blood. The sensation of whip bites and sharp knives were like kisses against maimed flesh. Even now, sitting up right in her tent and fighting the adrenaline pumping through her veins, she could still feel the linger of pain where wounds now lay hidden and long since healed. Those broken parts of her began to bubble to the surface, a reminder of some of the worst days of her life.
She had invested abit of her waking moments to simply sit in the silence and soak in the beauty of it's absence of expectation. Mostly she was desperate to repress the building panic, those memories dragging their claws through the receptors of her brain, severing her sensibility and calm-- Until the twittering of the birds would begin. This, like a cue for action, would rouse the Madam from her tent at long last. The perfect piercing distraction.
Blurry eyes blink through the exhaustion before a hand lifts to rub against one eye. This did little for the bleariness, but a stretch of her short limbs would be followed by the popping of her back. With this new sense of looseness she would begin to feel the wakefulness surging through her. Eyes brighter, she accounts for each of her current companions before going about setting up for the morning.
Today her layers reflected the expectations of warm weather in a forest setting, her shirt and pants both breathable and light material, a feather weight but durable jacket, all of varying shades of brown and green. It was a complete contradiction to how some may imagine her; She was never not in break neck heels and a stunner gown around society... To her joy, society here was, in simple terms, lacking in expectations of how one presented themselves. Those who did care didn't matter, not this deep into the back country. But she understood that she would be hard to recognize as she was, if it weren't for the signature cold gaze and particularly ruthless resting bitch face.
To the animals she would be another part of this system. Novelty, strange to look at perhaps. But still very much apart of their lives in this instant and, for the most part, not too much of a threat. In her mind it ultimately helped to present herself as part of this circle of life to the animals. It would ensure they weren't frightened of or nervous with her presence. This benefited her in two ways:
It might give her the advantage of getting as close as possible to make the perfect kill shot.
They wouldn't be as tense or frightened upon their death. Better product.
It was abit macabre, but a functional part of hunting that she could appreciate. Thus she would treat today as another opportunity to explore, only now she would have her hinny in tow with multiple pairs of snare equipment packed onto the equid's back. Susan had been mapping out the general local, planning to set up a few quick snap traps to check on tomorrow. She was hoping she'd catch one of the smaller prey she had counted in the tens, just yesterday. Rabbits, porcupines and squirrels might be unlucky enough to be apart of her pelt collection come the next morning. The idea was to keep these snares working for the next few days and to focus her efforts in collecting larger game. Things which would meet the requirements for meat and leather in large portions.
With Jenny in tow and her tigers in the canopies, Susan would begin to haul her crew out of the comforts of the camp. A quick scanning of the nearby area for any movement would be conducted, routine at this point, before pushing her group toward the river once again. She'd follow her path from the previous afternoon, land marks and old tracks her guide at this moment.
Once, she would pause where the river becomes narrow, tossing the lead rope around Jenny's sturdy and thick neck before pulling down the supplies for her first snare from the hinny's back.
For the next two hours, she spent much of it walking down the length of the river, setting up snare after snare until her materials ran out. With nearly a snare every two hundred feet, Susan would place her final trap with some peace of mind that she had casted a good sized net. She had zig zagged some through this trek, ensuring to get variety to her layout, some on the river bank and others in the forest or at the lip of bank and wood. A mental tally was taken the further she and her mare walked, as she hadn't been willing to end such a beautiful morning here.
Deer in the tens were noted, five basilisks basking in the morning sun, twenty odd skunks and an uncertain number of rats of all things. Hogs especially, their numbers were notably the most dysfunctional on the land the further she got. But currently.. She had been distracted by two fox had been found flouncing in wildflowers, tussling through the wild poppies and green ferns with the anticipated playfulness of nature's more cunning creatures. The young pair seemed to be quite twitterpatted, and to some degree this brought Susan abit of a smile. All manners of wild beasts went about their business when noting Susan does the same, unknowing of her consideration to their skin and size, gauging their ages to the best of her abilities.
When it came to the general health and well being of animals she would pass the true mastery of it over to Rickie, accomplished in animal medicine to some degree through her war career. However, Sue could atleast make sure if something was malnourished or flourishing. So far... The latter was proving true.
To Susan this meant that while the land struggled to keep up with the amount of beasts traversing through here things were still managing to find a balance in it, somehow. It seemed she has stumbled upon this little slice of paradise just in time, getting ahead of a problem before it could get out of hand.
With her mind in the clouds and distracted, she wouldn't quite notice it at first, but the forest had grown considerably quiet. The birds had ceased in their whistling and chirping, the communications of arboreal critters and even the trilling insects had ceased. The river and the breathing of her equid were all she could hear.
There were eyes in the shadows, leering after the woman and her mount. It wasnt until it was upon her and Jenny that either finally noticed these uneasy differences to the forest from before. It started as the snapping of twigs and leaves beneath heavy paws from their left would be caught by Susan's sensitive ears. Then, an initial deep guttural snarl would announce an adversary to the playing field. It invoked something within Susan. Initially, fear. Her muscles tensed and her sympathetic nervous system begged for her to run -- From the corner of her eye she could almost feel Jenny tensing and preparing to bolt the very same way Susan wanted to. Without a thought the woman reacted, one hand reaching for the hunting knife at her waist before lifting it. In this same gesture she turns with, a furious, primal expression taking over her face, her bright golden eyes envoking from hesitation in the predator as Susan puts herself between the nervous Jenny and the fast approaching stalker. A beautiful big cat with dark fur and a furious disposition had made it's approach, massive fangs on full display and eyes wild with warning. Overhead the two tigresses in Susan's accompaniment were making the swift descent to the forest floor, halted only by Susan's remarkable effort at prevent a fight:
Susan's eyes had briefly caught sight of the swollen teats hanging from the big cat's abdomen and, with a sudden holler, she would throw her hands up to try and disengage the furious mother cat. She screams and growls like a wild beast herself, advancing and kicking up enough dust to given the illusion of threatening to charge. There would be a pause in the advancement from the beast, Susan's display proving effective enough to send the creature back to her den. They weren't very far from what Sue suspected to be a nursery, but she wasn't going to stick around and risk truly rousing the fury of a mother scorned.
With a quick motion Sue would gather Jenny's lead rope and start pressing back the way they had come, a cold sweat breaking out across her forehead in the meanwhile. Her knees felt like jelly now, but she wasn't slowing down to let herself fall out when she was still so vulnerable to unexpected attacks.
Once she and the hinny returned to the river bank would she finally let out the little sob which was trapped in her throat, emotion flowing through her again at a rate too quick for her to temper and control. It was just a close call -- Alittle too close... And she couldn't have blamed the mother cat if she tried. Susan would be just as vicious over her the well being of her children, too. A notion that would only empower the emotion behind her soft cries, a hand brought up to try and repress this emotion by rubbing at her eyes. She didn't want to spoil this day by being so emotional -- It was only the beginning to this traditional hunt, she could get lost in her feelings back in the Brothel.
With a soft sniffle from her runny nose the woman would bring her palms to her eyes, furiously wiping the tears away. This would leave her with the view of a handsome deer lingering alone at the side of the river. It was a sizable creature, potentially three years old and wide. The rack he carried wasn't anything too exciting, two point at best. The decision was made well before she really started looking it over, rifle gathered and lifted. She'd aim briefly to ensure her shot would penetrate just at the fourth rib, seeking the heart of the beast for her bullet.
A breath in.
A breath out.
She squeezes the trigger.
......
The remainder of the morning hours would be spent dispatching her first kill. The meat and sinew was severed with deliberate cuts from her knife, extremities and butchered meats hanging over coals and wrapped as securely as she could manage to ensure the meats could smoke.
The effort here was to ensure the meat would dry out efficiently, that no bacteria could grow by drawing out the moisture from the body. It just had to make it back to the brothel for proper treatment, curring and preservation. But for now, this tribal method of preservation was her best shot at getting a good amount of food home in the long run.
A well skinned pelt would be laid out to dry after having cleaned and scraped the membrane from the hide of the deer. Currently Susan was taking the time to inspect organs for any health indications of having been unwell -- But in the end she wasn't too certain what she was looking for. It just looked like organs, a body cavity of once functioning viscera of vitality. Now mere fertilizer for the forest. Or treats for the patient and awaiting tigresses in her accompaniment.
Susan made busy of her hands and mind by hauling the parts which she had no use for out for her tigers to feast in peace, then turning her attentions to cleaning up the mess made following her dressing of the deer.
Occasionally she would pause to check the state of the back strap she had so carefully carved off the cavity of her kill, seeking to make this steak her late lunch for the day.
By all accounts, things were successful so far. Later in the day she would expect to check the snares for changes and potentially collect a couple of new bodies for the hunt. For now, she'd recuperate from the fright from her walk before by resting in the comforts of her little hovel of peace.
