Painted Yellow

Amongst Tholan's friends, Trentil was the most excited for a "last hunt", albeit the most nervous. He actually came over to Tholan's home and, after knocking until Tholan answered in mild miffiness, Trentil invited him with a few other males for a personal hunt:

"Tholan, friend, how are you?"

Tholan inhaled, allowing the miffiness to dissipate. "Good."

"Nice, nice, is Lindia home?"

"She is assisting Garrold; they're brainstorming for future festivities."

Trentil clapped his hands. "Goody-good! In fact, Garrold had granted my request, a last hunt for the fall season. I got Merchen and Hommock, and I just need the best among the rest."

Tholan sighed. He knew the history between Lindia and Merchen, and Hommock had a reputation for sporadically trying to appear more tough during dilemmas. Then, there was Trentil, a good patroller but easily exited. "To drag you back alive?"

Trentil laughed. "Oh, Tholan, you kidder! Listen," he whispered and leaned forward, "there's a good spot to hunt, not far from the mountains."

Upon hearing this, Tholan backed up. "No, NO! No way! That...that Abomination* we had to deal with during summer is probably near the mountains. We should find a different spot!"

"Tholan, relax! It's a different spot," assured Trentil. "From your description, the Abomination went between the mountains, probably west. My spot is east, off the slope. We'll be far from that thing, trust me! The only things you'll find near the eastern mountain, aside from my suggested spot, is a former town from centuries ago...abandoned, of course!"

"Really?" Tholan inquired suspiciously.

"Well, there were dark-haired wolves in that town, but that was from my last two patrols. No doubt they made that place a temporary den, but winter will drive them to the plains where prey might be easier to attain. Besides," he patted Tholan's shoulder, "we're not going to the town! We go on a good morning, scout, and if there's nothing there, we go home! Trust me!"

Tholan grimaced; somehow, a seemingly good morning every couple of months made his life more exciting than he wanted.

The next day, Trentil did as promised, once more knocking until Tholan opened the door, irritated like before. Trentil was made to wait until Tholan was dressed and hydrated, kissing Lindia goodbye and promising to come back before dusk. Trentil then led him to two other males; tall and lanky Merchen, and broad-shouldered barrel-chested Hommock.

"We're bringing the lucky-boy with us, Trenty?" mocked Merchen, winking at Tholan.

Tholan restrained himself from rolling his eyes; every community dealing in beasts of burden was bound to have asses. "Yes," he responded, "and I would like to get this over with."

"Ooh, in a hurry?" asked Merchen. "Trying to get back home to warmth and comfort?"

Tholan indicated for Trentil to lead the way, doing his best to not let Merchen get under his skin. Merchen, in turn, turned away from Tholan and walked behind Trentil.

"Merchen really doesn't like you," Hommock whispered to Tholan. "If he disrespected my woman, I'd knock him down."

"Merchen had his chance; Lindia chose me, and that's the end of the matter."

Hommock smirked at Tholan's remark. "Regardless, don't screw this up for us. This is supposed to be a special hunt, according to Trentil. If it's anything but fulfilling, it's his ass on the line."

Tholan started walking forward, but Hommock's big hand suddenly reached out and stopped an inch away from his chest. "One more thing; I've torn apart a bear with my own claws last year. Don't give me any flack, and don't try to stop me."

Their path was definitely heading to the east, keeping inside the forest before it would lead to the plains where bears and wolves and even mountain lions had been known to stalk the herds of deer, elk, and even moose grazing upon the grass. The morning sun seemed to be beckoning the squad to follow its glowing path set atop the trees and raining down through the foliage. A golden sheen set before a neon-pink sky, cast upon a healthy-green forest...giving way to a clearing ahead.

Trentil quickly turned to him and indicated silence, using his index finger to then point to the edge of the clearing. Tholan's eyes followed the direction and beheld a magnificent animal.

Tholan remembered stories from his childhood, passed by word of mouth from his mother and father unto him every night before his Year of the New Phase (basically puberty, but for him and his community). They involved creatures created by Hunters as part of legends and myths, from tall immortals with pointed ears to long-haired fish people prowling the oceans and luring sailors with songs and trinkets. The most wholesome were the stories of the Horned Horses, the herd animals of which were rumored to hold the most pure and potential magic amongst the mortal creatures. He had seen the pictures and the drawings, but neither would do justice for him in this place and at this time. The large animal had reared up its head to look around for the source of the confusing noise and, seeing no culprits, it turned and started walking through the trees.

Trentil signaled the group forward, keeping to the trees and going around the clearing so as not to be easily seen. He stopped near the tracks of the Horned Horse and inhaled deeply; "Can you smell that?"

Tholan surveyed the area, wondering if the animal was close. Seeing nothing, he inhaled deeply and took in the scents of the area; grass, trees, hair, flowers, hooves...

Moisture?

Trentil indicated forward, but with more speed. The four of them ran, their trek almost upon the roots of the Eastern mountain. Tholan not only smelled the moisture, he could hear it! A waterfall was nearby, which meant drinking water was within their grasp!

What's more, he could smell more beings in that area. More Horned Horses. The answer came before them; more Horned Horses! It was like a painting from the collage of children's dreams and adult's fantasies, played out amongst a scenery of a pool flowing forth from the aforementioned waterfall, a wonderful resource from the Eastern mountain that was attracting and hydrating the animals.

Tholan took this all in, a dream he prayed unto his patron deity that would not be forgotten, only to be shaken back to reality as he noticed Hommock sneaking around the pool, going behind the waterfall, heading to one of the unsuspecting Horses. Moving downwind, he shifted to his more bestial nature, the sound of the waterfall covering up for his transformation. Trentil saw him, and whispered, "No! Hommock, not yet!"

Too late came the message, as another Horned Horse came upon the large Hommock in all his predatorial glory, and cried out a whinny that alerted the herd. Hommock bolted, but so did his quarry, and the two ran in the direction of the mountain's base. Trentil, Merchen, and Tholan turned in turn, and clawed in haste after their overtly ambitious member.

Admittedly, Tholan missed this; the glorious day shining through a pinkish sky and raining gold through green canopies, a clearing in the forest with a waterfall and strips of grass running alongside the water, a great mountain providing a perfect backdrop to an otherwise clear sky, and the thrill of the hunt to cap it all off! He was grateful for this, and he hurried in happiness alongside both his companions as they continued chasing after Hommock and the future meat for the community. This was what he had wanted, a time of peace and normalcy. No Hunters, no Abominations, no ultrantulas, but plenty of sunshine and Horned Horses and-

A fog?

The frightened Horned Horse barreled through the appearing mist with a determined Hommock not far behind. Merchen followed suit, but Trentil slowed down alongside Tholan. They were practically on the slope of the Eastern mountain and the trees were still a continuation of the forest, but there was something eerie here. The forest itself had dark places and even felt like a crushing hope for any unfortunate enough to be lost, but this environment was different, like a foreboding mansion just springing up in the middle of nowhere.

"Trentil," asked Tholan, "you've been here before. What is this?"

Trentil looked around. "This way will lead us to that abandoned town I told you about. It was never this...dense before."

Tholan nodded. "Well, you were here before, so lead the way."

"Yeah," Trentil nodded assent, "let's just be careful."

Entering the mist, Tholan noticed how quiet it was inside this region of the forest. Such was not uncommon even on his own patrols, but this quiet had him hearing more noises coming from within his own body than anywhere outside. And if that wasn't enough, his sense of smell was also muffled; he had to hover his nose barely an inch off of the ground to locate the direction of the others as well as the Horned Horse.

"We're in the town," Trentil quipped, and no sooner was this said than a house stood before the two, the wood darkened from exposure and time with moss growing in patches upon the walls. Tholan turned and found another house, this one partially collapsed. Both of them moved between the houses, making out more buildings that were either destroyed or rotting in appearance. Dried leaves littered the dark dirty ground under their clawed feet as they came to the middle of the former town.

"Merchen! Hommock!" called out Trentil. Tholan whirled in his direction, being caught off guard. Trentil noticed, and said, "Sorry, didn't mean to make you jump. Listen, I'll go on; there's a field of stones ahead, maybe they went there. You go back and check the houses." Tholan nodded, and Trentil went ahead calling out, "Merchen! Hommock!"

Tholan didn't feel that they should be announcing themselves, but headed to the houses regardless. Though his sense of smell was still muffled by the fog, he was quite sure he could pick up a lingering scent in the air, almost obliterated in the open air. Inside the houses, though, the scent was a little more prevalent, adding to the fungus and mildew. Amongst these airs, none belonged to either of the other community members, nor the Horned Horse (though no herd animal would willingly enter a house without either being coaxed or being provoked).

He had checked on three houses that were still holding up, noticing that these places appeared as if abandoned in an instant, with blankets still on beds and plates still in cupboards. One even had children's toys still in its chest, though such were also subject to the decay of time. Dark spots were littered upon the floorboards, and one house had what appeared to be the remains of a trap door, almost as if it was chewed up. Tholan leaned in close and inhaled the wood, expecting the usual putrid smell.

Rotting eggs! He pulled back immediately, almost dry-heaving on the spot. Something else had caught his eye, and he went back to pear into the small room under the trap door. Sure enough, there were stairs, suffering from the same rot, but he looked closer and made out scratch marks upon the stairs. Almost like...claw marks.

Something was dragged out.

The sudden silence caught his attention; why wasn't Trentil calling out the names? He quickly moved away from one mystery and headed to another, to the field of stones Trentil mentioned heading towards. Sure enough, there they were, but now he could make this place out not as a field; instead, it was a cemetery littered with many a tombstone. Shockingly, the fog had alleviated here, and he could even make out the names on a few tombstones. That rotting egg smell was back, stronger than at the trap door. But a stronger and fresher scent was suddenly before him, and he fell upon all fours to see the familiar red liquid sprayed upon the graves. He had a path, he took it, and the red trail led him further into the graveyard.

He stopped. He had found the Horned Horse and Hommock.

Both lied before a tall obelisk-shaped tombstone standing alone and apart from the other, and both were surrounded by blood. The culprits were chewing upon their necks, the last amount of red liquid spilling out and wetting the ground. One of them looked up, staring into Tholan's eyes with fiery-yellow eyes swirling around white pupils. It opened its blood-stained lips and growled at Tholan; despite its recent chewing upon Hommock's neck, the mouth remained untainted beyond the sharpened white teeth and pinkish gums. As it opened its maw, a yellow tongue poured out, and the foul scent of rotten eggs hit his nose once more, an eruption of what he now identified as sulfur. He knew it by another name:

Brimstone.

Here were the Black Wolves that Trentil had mentioned, but they were not like regular wolves; they were twice the size, with talons like sickles and, possibly, just as sharp. Their fur was the most captivating; it appeared like thick fur, yet it almost seemed like a fluid, reminiscent of a shape moving in the darkness like a deep-sea predator moving in the abyss before striking. There were five of them and, one by one, they shifted their attention from the recent dead lying upon the old dead to the future dead now backing up slowly.

Movement came out from behind Tholan, and he felt the clawed hands of Trentil and Merchen enveloping his arms. "Run!" yelled Trentil. "Don't look at them! Run, both of you! Run! Now! RUN!"

Their padded feet and hands hit the ground, nails digging into the dirt and throwing it behind their retreating backs. They dared not to look behind themselves, not that they needed to; the harsh barks and deep growls indicated enough proof of them being chased, along with the heavy thuds of more limbs of large animals pursuing them. They burst out of the town, the fog still around them as they followed the slope back to the waterfall and the stream. Behind the waterfall they went, the sound not nearly enough to drown out the howls of the Black Wolves. The fog continued to follow them, almost as if it went where the monsters were.

Further they went into the forest, and Tholan was worried that they would lead the Black Wolves back to the community when he saw the red cruxes. They were his, set up after his encounter with the group of Hunters from months ago, still standing uninterrupted. "Head to the red cruxes!" he yelled out, and almost balked as the sound of jaws whiffed near his ankle with the crashing of teeth echoing in his ears. He pushed harder, and finally launched past his barrier.

He was still running, with Merchen at his side, when the cry of Trentil caught their attention and they stopped, scraping the ground as their momentum continued for a few feet. Turning, they witnessed Trentil swarmed upon the ground by the Black Wolves, gripping his limbs and the back of his neck. He fought as best as he could, but even his transformed self couldn't fight the large predators for long. Sinking their large fangs into him, they started dragging him away. Trentil screamed in pain, but when he saw Tholan and Merchen start to bolt back to him, he shook his head and cried out, "No, don't!" Another bite, another scream, and he was pulled into the fog and the forest by three of the Dark Wolves. The other two turned back to Tholan and Merchen, growling and barking but unable to move beyond the red cruxes. In fact, they backed away, their white pupils glaring spitefully at their former prey.

Tholan looked from the retreating Black Wolves to the red cruxes. There were only three set up, yet the monsters treated this like a cursed wall. Finally, they turned and ran back, presumably from whence they came. Again, a silence surrounded Tholan, but this was more like the quiet after a fierce battle; the notion of never seeing his friend again suddenly washed over him. Falling to his knees, he mournfully howled to the sky, now falling victim to clouds rolling out of nowhere. Tears rolled down his face, and Merchen came over to him and placed his clawed hand upon Tholan's shoulder. After a minute stretched to nearly forever, Merchen finally broke the silence: "We need to go. We need to return and report this."

The day had been too good to be true, and Tholan pushed his exhausted self, alongside Merchen who now supported him with an arm under his shoulder. They got back to the community, noting every red crux around and near their home. Members ran up to them, and the questions poured; what happened, where was Trentil and Hommock, why were they exhausted? Finally, Garrold stood before the two. He approached them, and looked upon Tholan, inquiring:

"Are you two all right?"

Merchen nodded, and Tholan did the same. Before Garrold asked anything else, Tholan found his voice; "Trentil...took us....clearing...Horned Horses there... chased... Black... Wolves..."

Garrold immediately grabbed both sides of Tholan's head. "Where is Trentil and Hommock?"

"Dead."

Garrold's mouth hung open, and he looked to Merchen. Merchen nodded and added, "We were hunting the Horses, and we went into an abandoned town. There were Black Wolves there, they...oh, heavens!" At this, he turned away, and Garrold looked upon Tholan. "How many times did you see the Black Wolves?"

This confused Tholan and, when he didn't answer, Garrold shook him. "How many times did you see them?"

"Two-two times!"

Garrold stopped shaking him. "How many times did Trentil see them?" At this, Tholan thought back to the patrols his friend told him about yesterday. He held up three fingers, and Garrold pulled Tholan closer and issued a warning:

"Never go back there again."