Gristle and Pestle
The man made his way through the dense growth with ease, using his gun barrel to part heavy growth when it cluttered his way. The hounds ran along with him, crossing his path, neither following nor leading, just keeping pace. The carpet underfoot was a soft moss broken frequently by the twisting roots of the ancient trees that towered overhead. Shafts of light lent a speckled pattern to the day, emphasizing the chirping of the birds as they swooped from branch to branch. It seemed that the forest was in harmony with their progressive march toward "home." Sean. or as he was now called, Coll, was enjoying the romp with Cait, leaving Ian to plod along pondering what this turn of events might hold in store for them.
Ian shivered as he walked. He felt a sense of foreboding that he could not quite grasp the reason for. As he watched his younger brother so obviously enjoying himself, he grew increasingly uneasy. He tried to recall just how long they had been traveling in this forest and could not find a beginning in his mind. The time seemed to have collapsed into a series of images that was no longer marked by definable days. He wondered if this was due to the place or due to his growing attachment to a hound's sense of being. It seemed to him that it was very important to know the difference, yet he could not fathom this, and it made him even more uncomfortable. As he walked on he caught a scent that took him full force. He pressed his snout to the ground, rooting for a stronger link. Finding it, he followed. As the scent grew stronger he picked up his pace until he was at a slow trot. When the scent was in full bloom, he slowed and fell into a crouch. Looking carefully around him, he found what he had tracked. It was a fawn, obviously strayed from its mother, casually nibbling on sweet grass at the base of a large oak tree. He moved upwind of the animal, making sure that he was silent and near invisible to the creature. When he had rounded it, he paused just long enough to be sure of his bearing and then he charged. The fawn had only time to look up, its beautiful long-lashed eyes registering bewilderment rather than fright, before Ian's jaws clamped down on its neck and the light that had been there was snuffed out.
The kill left his pulse pounding and his jaws slack with a hunger he had not known he had until that very moment. Venison, especially young tender venison, was very tasty, Ian determined as he enjoyed his unexpected meal. He took his time, giving the fawn it due. It had, afterall ,sacrificed itself to support his hunger; he could at least savor it in deference to this offering. When he had eaten his fill, Ian dug a small pit and buried what little was left. For some odd reason, he did not want the poor thing to be defiled anymore than what had been necessary to feed himself. He even took the time to move a few rocks, carrying them by mouth to cover the improvised grave near the oak. As he finished, he turned and was stunned to find the human there, watching him in silence. How much had the man seen? How odd would he find his actions? How odd indeed were they? Even Ian could not guess; he had killed on instinct, that much seemed to be from his hound side. Was the burial from his human part? Not knowing what else to do, he simply returned the man's gaze and then slipped off behind the oak. He was very unsettled; it would not do for the human to see too much of his turmoil. Let him think him odd.
The man was confounded. He had seen the blond hound take off and decided to follow at a discreet pace. Watching him track and then take down the fawn had been like bearing witness to an arcane dance. The almost ritualistic way he had eaten the wee thing had drawn him in as well. But what puzzled him most was the hound burying his kill. What was so special about the fawn that he would do a thing like that? He had never seen anything like it. Not once in all his years of hunting with his hounds had he seen any of them do anything other than eat and leave the carcass behind. Truthfully, in all his years he had only seen a hound take down a deer on its own maybe as many times as he could count on his hands. Now here was his own Conn, slinking off in the forest to feast on one all to himself as if he were a prince of the forest and to pay it homage when he was done. The man scratched himself thinking that he should have listened better to the hearth stories when his Gran had spoken of such wild things in his youth. He turned and headed back toward the main path home. It would do him no good to spend too much time wondering at the oddness of this new hound. At least the younger one seemed to fit in easily enough. Perhaps it would just take time for the blond to settle into the ways of a kept hound. He settled his rifle more comfortably on his shoulder and let that thought carry him forward.
The pack was running in circles and baying when they stepped out into the small clearing where a tiny thatched hut stood. The man called out a greeting and a small slim-framed woman with flame-colored hair came out. She helped him with his pack and took the gun. "I've been waitin' to see ye' for two days. Where ha' ye' been? Ha' ye' just been playing with the hounds or did ye' find a pub hidden in the woods?"
"Now Mairy, ye' know your Thom woulna' stay gone from yer side any longer than was necessary," the man grinned back.
"So then, where is the meat and supplies I sent ye' to fetch?"
Thom drew out several well-wrapped bundles from his pack. "I've the herbs ye' asked for and a bit of the cloth, but the meat I will hav' to hunt for at next light. There wasn' a cow nor calf for the askin', least not at a price worth the payin'."
"That might be true if I didna' know how cheap ye' are. Well, at least we can season the wildness that will be on our table. But I won't be waitin' for first light," she said as she handed him back his gun. "Off with ye' now and see to supper. I've not had a decent meal since ye' left and these hounds can't just eat thar bowls ye' know." She turned her back to him and whistled. The pack milled around her as if she had some special magic that made her irresistible, and so perhaps she did as her hands were suddenly filled with small hard biscuits. She led them away in a happy frolic around the back of the hut to a small pen, which they all entered gladly. Only Sean and Ian stood outside the pen and watched. She gave them each a biscuit and a good scratch under the chin, then stepped out and locked the gate. When she turned and saw the two hounds behind her, she let a whoosh of surprise slip from her lips. Then she gathered her wits about her and, seeing that they were new to the pack, made her way to the small porch that bordered the back of the hut. Here she sat and waited with the biscuits in her lap.
It was Sean that made the first move, slowly encroaching into her space. She set out a hand with a piece of biscuit on it. He stretched out his neck and licked it off her hand. She took the opportunity to give him a bit of a scratch on the ear. It felt remarkably good to Sean. He inched closer to her. They repeated this pattern until the whole of one biscuit was gone and he as good as had his head in her lap. They sat there together for a few minutes, the biscuits moved off to the side on the porch and the flame-haired woman gently scratching his large ears and the tuft under his chin. Eventually, Ian creeped up. His needed to check on Sean and his desire to be a part of what was happening was taking over. The woman slid the biscuits behind her, cupping only one in her spare hand. This she fed to Ian as he gently nibbled it in her palm. Then he lay down on her open side and she sat with the two brothers, alternately scratching ears and chins.
This was how Thom found them when he came back with a brace of rabbits for their dinner. "Mairy," he called as he came into the clearing, "The hounds will have to hunt for themselves in the morning. I can hunt for larger game in the new light. If I bring something down, we can dress it and have it for feedin then." He rounded the rear of the hut and almost laughed at the sight of the hounds all cosied up to his woman. She looked up at him with a grand smile on her face. "I'm thinkin' these two will be stayin' in the house tonight."
With that she got up and went in to the hut, holding the door for the two hounds who made their way in as if it were their rightful place. "Could things get any odder with that pair?" wondered Thom aloud. First all the business in the forest on the way here, and now they had his Mairy inviting them in to tea. He laughed and went to skin and clean the game for dinner, listening the the soft grind of Mairy's pestle as she prepared the herbs for their dinner.
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