The sound of a small bird chirping on his window sill woke him slowly from the depths of sleep. He opened his eyes, only to close them again immediately as the bright sunlight speared down through the open windows. He stretched gently, loosening his sore muscles and sinking back down onto his bed. He took a deep whiff of the crisp mountain air, still cold and knife-sharp as it blew down from the snowy peaks. It was always like this in the weeks following a hunt. Everything seemed so beautiful, so clear, so.. peaceful.

And it had only been a few weeks ago that he had been fighting for his life up in the cold, white, treacherous wasteland that was the mountain peak. He sighed and rested his forearm on his forehead, shielding his eyes from most of the morning sun. All the bad memories, all the hardships, and the near-death experiences, melted and ran together, and reformed into a single memory which never ever held the frustration, misery and the despair of each individual moment. He fought to keep them all, as he felt it all beginning to slip away like a bad dream.

It was the one fight he could never seem to win, no matter how many times he fought it.

---

The wind howled outside his makeshift shelter like the screams of every hunter who had died out here in this miserable weather. He pushed aside the flap of leather shielding him from the elements. Overnight, it had frozen into one solid sheet of ice, and he had to push hard against the weight of the snow outside to get it open. When it finally did, he wished he hadn't immediately. A blast of wind invaded the little alcove he had found the day before, whipping around and instantly reducing the once-warm atmosphere inside, and coating everything in a fine coating of snow. It would have been something almost beautiful if it hadn't been for the fact that he had been out in the same old weather for the last week.

He cursed it all loudly, his voice lost in the raging blizzard like his prey had the day before. Shouldering his way through the thin wall of ice and snow he had constructed to shelter him from the elements for the night, he turned to pick up his equipment and supplies before they were buried under the omnipotent snow.

His limbs felt heavy as lead, and he had to constantly wipe his goggles to be able to see where he was going. Step by step he followed the cliff face to his right closely, not daring to deviate in case he found the edge of the narrow shelf that he traversed. This blizzard had been blowing for the good part of a day, night and looked like it had no intentions of stopping anytime soon. He cursed again under his breath, there was no possible way to track the beast by its tracks or spoor. His only lead was the general direction it had been limping after he had shredded its left wing webbing, and slashed its hamstring. The only thing that had saved the beast from a vengeful death was the blizzard, which had blown out of nowhere, reducing visibility to almost zero, and forcing him to seek shelter for the night.

He kept a hand firmly on the cliff face beside him, trudging through the thigh-deep snow step by painstaking step, the blizzard covering the little trench he created behind him within a matter of seconds. Knowing the nature of the beast, it would have sought shelter in any nearby cave. All he had to do was seek out an opening to a cave, and not only would he be out of the elements, he would have a high chance of encountering the thing, since it was in no condition to return to its nest after what he had done to it.

The snow continued to blow, pummelling him with needles of ice that somehow found their way past his armour and the layer of warm clothing he wore beneath it. He had no idea how long he had been following this cliff, but his stamina wasn't going to last and he had no illusions about the limits of his own body. He was gasping for breath now, each ice-cold mouthful of air searing his lungs like fire.

Just when he was on the verge of seeking a niche in the cliff to shelter under to recover his energy, his foot slipped on something. It felt like a drop, but to his right? He cried out in alarm as he felt himself sink under the snow, making him lose his balance. His face met the cliff, his helmet slamming into.. and through it in a shower of numbingly cold ice shards. He didn't even have the energy to scream as he rolled helplessly down a steep, rocky slope, every part of his body battered by jagged rocks that seemed to find all the soft places in his armour.

Finally, he had come to a stop, laying in a groaning heap at the bottom, gasping for breath and trying to work out whether he had broken anything. Eventually, he made himself stand, and take his bearings. Removing his goggles and pulling down his face veil, he stared around him. He had fallen through a thin wall of ice, which had given away under his weight, and even now was being covered over by the blizzard. Soon the hole he had made would disappear, leaving no sign of his passage. He sniffled, shaking the snow off his body and getting his bearings.

The cave was lit, albeit poorly, by the ice that covered the once open entrance. As his sense of smell was slowly restored along with some degree of warmth in his body, he could make out the distinct smell of flesh. The whole cave stank of it, a disgusting concoction of rotten flesh, the pungent smell of dried blood, and the sourness of digestive fluids. He wrinkled his nose, and reached back to unsheathe his weapons, sliding them slowly out of their sheaths with a slow, metallic sound. If the thing was in here, he didn't want to announce himself so quickly.

As he followed the cave, he noticed something on the ground that made his heart pound. It was frozen blood, darker, frozen stains against the icy rock. He knelt down, placing his blade down beside the frozen blood carefully, and ran a finger along the dark stain. Bringing it up to his nose, he sniffed his finger. No doubt about it, it was the beast he was after, and this was its blood.

Something moved in the darkness ahead, and he sprang into a defensive stance, sweeping his blade up and bringing them both up in front of him. He held his breath as he searched the cave around and in front of him for signs of movement. A deep snuffling echoed throughout the cave, it knew someone was here, and it was looking for him.

The entire cave shook as a deafening roar split the silence. It echoed around and around until it became a deafening cacophony of sound that made him drop his weapons and cover his ears.

It stopped as suddenly as it started, and the silence that followed was almost as deafening as the roar had been as he retrieved his weapons. Shaking his head desperately to stop the ringing, he stepped carefully forward, ready to move at any sudden movement. The beast had to be close to have sniffed him out this quickly.

He was so focussed on staring ahead that he almost missed the sudden movement above his head. Feeling the sudden pressure above him, he dove forward, skidding along the jagged ground face first and rolling uncontrollably as something horrific landed on the ground where he had been.

Rolling to his feet, he winced as a pain stabbed through his chest. It felt like a broken rib but he didn't have time to worry about it. The beast sniffed the air once more, its eyeless head searching for his location, a fetid puff of warm air condensing in front of its mouth with each snuffle. Even from a fair distance away he could smell its blood. It hadn't healed over much, and he had been counting on that.

The Khezu spun around to face him, its nose leading it to his precise location as its skin rippled with a repulsive peristaltic motion. The muscles under its transluscent skin was grey, and looked dead, if it wasn't for the veins that criss-crossed it like a maze, keeping the thing alive and breathing in such an unforgiving environment. He suddenly didn't feel so worn out anymore as the rush of combat overtook him.

Running straight at the wounded Khezu, he dove to one side as it leapt at him, throwing its entire flabby bulk forward in an attempt to crush the small human that had harassed it non-stop for the last three days. It landed with a deafening roar, the sheer volume of its voice and the shudder of its impact on the ground dislodging some ice shards from the ceiling.

As it struggled to get back up, he rushed towards its wounded leg. Aiming for its barely-clotted over wound, he hacked at it furiously with its blades, ripping it open within a matter of moments, releasing a spurt of thick red blood that made the huge beast momentarily lose its footing, forcing it to the ground once more.

Pushing the advantage, he continued to hack at the leg until he felt the jarring impact of metal on bone. The leg was a ruined mass of rent flesh and severed tendons, while arteries spilt their steaming lifeblood all over the ground. Changing his focus, he jumped over the ruined leg, ducking under the Khezu's flailing wing and headed for its neck. That was one of its weakest spots, and the only way to end it quickly.

Sensing what the small creature was about to do, the giant wyvern flailed harder, its breath snorting forth from its nostrils like steam vents as it tried again and again to get up, without much success. He smiled to himself as he thrust one of his blades deep into the Khezu's fleshy neck right behind its leech-like jaw.

It didn't have the effect he thought it would. Instead of crying out weakly and struggling, the Khezu roared in agony, the sheer force of the sound knocking him off his feet to land sprawling on his backside.

Before he could get back up, the Khezu's body trembled, and he heard the distinct buzzing of the Khezu's trademark defence.

He screamed in agony as the electricity rushed through his body, ravaging his nerves and throwing him back hard against the wall of the cave. The back of his head hit something jagged, and he felt his helmet dent as black spots danced in front of his eyes. He barely had time to roll out of the way as the Khezu followed up its electricity with its jaw, extending its neck as if it was made of rubber, its maw open wide to swallow him whole.

Having missed its target, the Khezu's jaw slammed into the rock beside his head, smashing the rock apart and showering him with razor-sharp chips of stone and ice.

He only had moments to act. Pushing his numb body beyond its limits, he reached out, and grasped the handle of the blade still stuck in the Khezu's neck as its neck retracted, dragging both hunter and blade along the ground as if he was being pulled by wild horses. He cried out in pain once more as his broken ribs jarred against the rough rock surface.

The beast didn't give him a chance to recover. Sensing that he was attached to the painful thing stuck in its neck, it began swinging its neck around wildly in an attempt to dislodge him.

Holding on grimly to his weapon, the hunter was slammed repeatedly against the walls and floor of the cave as the Khezu's struggles became ever more desperate. Through the red haze of pain that threatened to drive him over the edge, he raised his other weapon, and slammed it down with all his might into the top of the Khezu's neck. Blood vented forth from the horrendous wounds, covering them both in the reeking, sticky liquid.

With one last effort, the Khezu screamed, only to gurgle wetly as the hunter twisted the first blade he had thrust into its neck, invading its vocal passage, and flooding it with its own blood. Bloody red bubbles streamed from the Khezu's mouth like drool, and its struggled began to weaken. It was slowly choking on its blood, but the hunter still resolutely refused to let go.

Finally, with one last wheeze, the Khezu fell limp, its head hitting the blood-soaked ground with a wet thud, its body twitching in its last death throes. He finally let go of both his blades, rolling onto his back, not caring that he was almost bathing in the blood of his prey. His breath came in ragged gasps, and he struggled with every ounce of energy he had to stay conscious as the consequences of what he had just done came crashing down on his body like a load of dragonite ore.

---

He smiled grimly at the memories. In a few weeks, all he would recall would be how he had heroically managed to kill the Khezu in its own cave, carved it up and brought back the trophies back to the village in triumph. Not the back-breaking days he had spent in agony, dragging what he could carve and carry from the dead Khezu with him back to the village, and collapsing at its front gate.

There was a rustle of material, and the soft padding of paws on rug. A felyne's face popped up over the edge of the bed beside him, and gave him a grin. "Nya! You're recovering well, Gastronome!" it miaowed happily, fussing over the blankets covering his body and tucking him in carefully. "We've made something hot and healthy for you to drink nya, Hannah should be along with it shortly, but you know how slow and careful she had to be with the tray nyao.'

He turned to look at the small, cream-coloured felyne with its one brown ear.

"Thank you, that would be nice," he smiled warmly.