we seem to invent ourselves in places left unknown

And I know I'm asking too much
And I know I'm taking control

In retrospect, Liam wasn't so sure that going hunting in the tundra during Leafchange was his best idea, but at least he'd come prepared. He'd learned from his ursur hunt with Noah, and he'd dressed accordingly in clothes that were warm, but still allowed movement. He carried his sword at his hip, and a crossbow in his hands. And, hopefully, he would only need to use the latter. Luxere were supposed to be skittish, but if he could sneak up on one, then a bolt through the heart should bring it down.

Or at least he hoped that was the case.

Regardless, he was here now and ready as he'd ever be, so he made his way to the Citadel gates and out onto the tundra. The snow crunched beneath his sturdy boots, and light flurries danced around his face. His clothing was a mixture of light greys and white, all the better to blend in with the tundra - or so he hoped. He was used to hunting in the forest, where he could blend in with darker colors and trees. Out here, he felt exposed. It was too open, and it made him feel vulnerable. But this was for his quest, and he was determined to succeed. And so off he went, heading in the direction that he'd been told to start looking for the herd.

But a heart that's not worth breaking
Isn't worth much, not at all

Liam

and i'm not keeping up

The tundra is a sheet of broken light—sun on ice, glare on every horizon. Wind combs the world flat and pale, and my breath ribbons out in little ghosts before the cold swallows them. I can’t feel my toes. I can feel everything else.

Mom’s okay. Dad’s okay. Family is… becoming real. I’ve joined a guild, I’ve made friends, I keep finding small ways to help—and that’s enough to make warmth bloom under all these layers even as the wind nips my cheeks. Cloud nine really makes good insulation.

I’ve got my bow across my back, daggers snug at my hips, the new shortsword riding light and sure. Browns and whites, nothing flashy. Torchline doesn’t offer much hunting and I need the practice, so here I am in Halo again, thinking I should apply for dual citizenship as my toes quietly disappear. An hour of tracks and breath and careful steps brings me up the lee of a drift. Then I crest and drop to my knees so fast the breath jumps out of me. 

There they are—the herd, pale shapes stitched into the glare. Antlers catch the light like frost-limned branches. Maybe the Void is gone, but I remember what antlers feel like in my arm. Not today. Today is simple: track the herd, figure out how to transport as much of it as I can (I'll cross that bridge when I get there, shut up), and go home with all my blood where it belongs.

Movement to my right. A man in pale colors trudges straight toward the crest—straight toward the herd. My stomach tightens. I scoot lower, sliding down the drift until the wind swallows me. Then I dash toward him in a low, quick run, gloves waving at him in the air. I cut a hand across my throat in a universal stop, wide-eyed, praying he sees me before the luxere do.

“Down—herd’s right there,” I whisper as soon as I’m close enough, breath a soft cloud. I flick two fingers toward the dip beside us and point past the drift’s lip, keeping my profile small, every motion slow and sure. “We can circle wide.”

I offer him a quick, bright smile—encouraging, not loud—then flatten into the snow and wait for his eyes to meet mine. "Maybe we take down more than one together." I suppose it's not quite standing on my own but it can't hurt to help each other.

the strength i need to push me

Theea

And I know I'm asking too much
And I know I'm taking control

Movement out of the corner of his eye had Liam pausing, tensing, reaching for a weapon - but then he saw that it was just a girl, running towards him while making a gesture that surely meant stop. The soldier instantly froze, a frown on his face, as the girl got close enough to hear. And when she spoke, he immediately dropped, cursing softly beneath his breath. He'd been so close to startling the herd, and he hadn't even known it. Damn.

The girl didn't seem bothered by his ineptitude, and Liam smiled in response to her quick, bright suggestion. "Sounds good," he said, voice quiet and pitched in a way that it wouldn't carry on the breeze. "Lead the way." He wasn't too proud to know when he needed to take instruction - even if it was from some random girl who appeared to be perhaps a little more than half his age. Besides, his quest had said nothing about having to hunt on his own. Perhaps partnering with someone would make it easier and more efficient to do what he'd come to do.

But a heart that's not worth breaking
Isn't worth much, not at all

Liam

and i'm not keeping up

I can’t help the grin that slips out, and I nod once, eyes catching a spark at “lead the way.” I’ve never led a hunt before. He doesn’t need to know that. He’s a handsome man—clean lines, soldier-steady, easily twice my age—and he listens like he means it.

I keep my voice low and simple, laying it out fast, like my dad always did, “We’ll skirt the lee of the drift—stay low, slow steps. Wind’s on our side, so scent will carry behind us. Signals: flat palm means freeze, two fingers means target, and when I stand—loose.” I tip my head toward the slope. “I’ll point the one I want and you pick yours.”

We crawl up the drift until we can just peek the top. The herd is a scatter of pale shapes stitched into glare, antlers throwing thin light. I angle a gloved finger toward a small luxere, just over the size of a yearling. “That one’s mine.” I shrug. ”All I can hope to transport. Cause, well, look at me.” I give the faintest shake of my “noodle” arms under all these layers and bite back a laugh. I make myself a little more serious with a clear of my throat instead. Then a quick nod. “Let's get into position.”

I ghost to my mark and hunker down. Bow comes up. String tight. Breath narrow. I stay on the smallest glow-crowned body, counting heartbeats. A short glance to the stranger—set, ready—and then I rise in one smooth motion, our signal, and loose.

The herd explodes into thunder. My arrow lands but… I see the fletching quiver from the soft spot between it’s shoulder and chest—what should have killed it, but it clumsily bolts. Cold spikes my gut. Shit. The arrow didn’t strike deep enough, not enough power. I kick over the ridge, sliding half the slope on my hip. Another arrow nocked, draw biting my fingers, release—throat this time. The luxere stumbles and folds.

Knife out, I sprint without thinking, cutting toward the fallen shape even as the rest of the herd hammers past. “I’ve got it—finishing,” I throw over my shoulder, more breath than words. Whatever my arms weren’t strong enough to do the first time, I won’t let it suffer for.

the strength i need to push me

Theea

And I know I'm asking too much
And I know I'm taking control

Liam meant it when he offered to let her lead, and he listened carefully to her instructions. She acted older than she surely was, giving orders in a clear, efficient way that made him think of his days as a soldier. He nodded along, then followed her up the drift, barely peeking out above the top to pick his own target - a larger stag, though not so large that he'd be wasting any of it. While he only needed the pelt, he'd be transporting the meat back to the Citadel to disperse to those in need of it, and a set of antlers would always make a good trophy.

At Theea's joke, Liam glanced at her and snorted a soft laugh. "You seem perfectly capable," he commented, but his focus was on the hunt, not on stroking a stranger's ego. Still, he'd learned long ago not to judge a book by its cover. Sometimes strength was found where one would least expect it.

She was away before too long, Liam marking his own target as he waited for the girl's signal. When it came, he lurched to his feet, sighting down his own arrow and loosing his arrow. It flew true, striking straight into the buck's heart, and the creature fell before it even knew what had hit it. The herd erupted, and Liam glanced over to find the girl's yearling injured, but not yet dead - but she seemed to have it well in hand. Still, he cocked the crossbow he carried once more, just in case it was needed, and hurried towards his own kill to ensure it was dead. He wouldn't let the stag suffer any more than the stranger would with her target.

But a heart that's not worth breaking
Isn't worth much, not at all

Liam

and i'm not keeping up

The herd breaks around me like a river finding rocks. I swerve, boots skidding, and a rushing shoulder clips the air where I was a blink ago. “Shit—” I duck out of the way of another and keep running.

My downed luxere thrashes weakly, antlers cutting frantic arcs that could still open me like paper. I veer to its blind side, breath burning my throat, and I’m never more grateful for the shortsword at my hip—long enough to reach what a dagger can’t. Steel clears leather; I circle it once, twice, timing the desperate heave of its chest. Fear shines in its eye and something tightens behind my ribs.

I step in and drive the blade clean to the hilt. The fight leaves it in a single, shuddering sigh. Stillness settles.

Silence folds in after the thunder of hooves, like the snow itself is catching its breath. Tears slip hot before I can stop them. I don’t sob—just that traitorous tremble of my lip as I kneel. I tug off a glove and smooth a hand along its face, feeling the coarse winter coat under my palm while the glow dwindles from its antlers like embers going dark. My palm rests between the luxere’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I say, the words a little too thick. The words fog and vanish, but I press them in anyway with my thumb along the bridge of its nose. I'm sorry for the fear, the confusion, the hurt I didn’t take fast enough.

This is a hunt. It feeds people. I know this is a success, ultimately. I feel like a child, and I wipe my cheeks with the back of my wrist and look at the arrows, reluctant to yank them free like I'm still going to hurt the fallen beast.

the strength i need to push me

Theea

And I know I'm asking too much
And I know I'm taking control

The herd was in a panic, swirling and swerving this way and that as it fought to get clear of the hunters at its flanks. Liam dodged this deer and that, hurrying through the snow to his downed target to find that it was indeed dead; he'd gotten lucky, really, that his shot was clean enough to end the beast's suffering before it really even began. The soldier ignored the pang of sadness that threatened to rise behind his ribs. Every part of the luxere would go to a good cause - its pelt for Maea, its meat for Halo. Even its antlers could be used for something or other, Liam was sure. But killing something so lovely and innocent - something that reminded him so clearly of Maea's fierwe shift - felt sour all the same.

He pulled the crossbow bolt from its victim, sticking it back into the quiver that he carried. Then he grabbed the luxere, grunting with the effort to drag it through the snow and towards the girl and her kill. As he neared, he thought he saw the stranger wipe her face with the back of a hand, and he slowed, trying to offer her privacy. He wasn't sure it this was her first hunt, or if perhaps there was some other reason for her to be upset - or maybe he was simply seeing her wipe sweat from her brow, and there was nothing more going on. Either way, he tried to allow her a moment to herself before appearing at her side.

"The blood will probably attract predators," he rumbled. "We should go."

fin

But a heart that's not worth breaking
Isn't worth much, not at all

Liam