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CRASH

I duck as a shield flies past my head. George, a man on my team, is thrown into the cave wall by the Congalala. His sword one way and shield another: my way. By the looks of him, he is down for the count. However, the beast still has four more of us to take out.

We had been pursuing the Congalala on order of the Great Guild for days. It had wreaked havoc on a camp a few days back and killed a couple of amateur hunters; therefore his death sentence was given to our village since we were the closest available respondents. Although this is usually a job for D or E class of our teams, we, the A class, were sent on it for quick dealing, since our village had seen very little activity lately.

For such a smelly, messy brute, her trail was not easy to grasp. She was a great, pink with an elongated snout, short tusks, and yellow eyes. It was about two meters wide and five meters long. When standing on all fours, it was about one and a half meters tall. It's front paws had extremely long, but luckily dull, claws, which was good news for armor and bad news for skin.

The most peculiar trait about a Congalala is it's tale. The tip was a fully functional hand; well, it was more like a mitten. With this, a Congalala could grip giant. Blue mushrooms to carry with it. Such blue mushrooms had great healing power, and holding it, the beast could eat of it over time. This made it a difficult monster to hunt. Although slow, its tail's reflex was great and fast, so no one could separate the beast from its mushroom. If it escaped long enough, it could eat of it, and therefore revive itself of weakness or fatigue.

So far, he has done this to us once, but after facing it all afternoon, it had no more mushroom to eat of. Lucky for us, we had it cornered as well. Sasha threw a flash bomb with a cry for us to shield our eyes. With the beast momentarily half blinded, she dragged George away to a safe spot. Meanwhile, Nadia set a pitfall trap before it. Zachariah rained his arrows upon the beast as she tried to shake her eyesight back. Once she stopped shaking, everyone but me retreated into the shadows. I was standing on the other side of the trap with my long sword drawn.

For one moment, our eyes met. Her two, yellow, enraged eyes caught my focused, proud eyes. We had already won. She cried one deep roar as she lurched forward and fell into the trap. Dirt caved in around her as she squirmed to get out. This gave Nadia enough time to fire several tranquilizer shots to finish off the beast. After five shots, squirming became minimal, and soon she was fast asleep. Zach sounded the horn. Our job was done. Our victory, as expected, was claimed.

We ride back on a four-aptonoth wheeled cart. The cart was a large, wooden structure with eight wheels and a shelter for hunters to ride in. Inside the cabin, Sasha had lain George down to treat his wounds. He had woken up in time to see the beast lie its head down. He had thrown out a shoulder on impact with the cave wall, but she knew methods that would get him back to top shape in a day or two.

Zachariah climbed the beast searching for salvageable arrows. He was our team's weapon specialist. His time was devoted to hunting , eating, sleeping, and tampering with weapons. He made adjustments and upgrades to each of our weapons. In his downtime, he hand crafted and perfected his bow and ammunition. His home was half laboratory and half blacksmith's shop with a bed and some storage thrown in there somewhere.

I dangled my legs off the side of the cart sharpening my longsword and humming a tune. I was sharpening mindlessly. As usual, I sat and analyzed everything that went right and wrong in our hunt. Later I would write down my analysis for future interpretation and use. I was the team leader. I answered directly to the town and guild hall and had the final word on strategy. Being leader of our class A hunting team also gave me leadership over all the town's hunters. They pursued and stayed home on my command. I also had to oversee the training school. Needless to say, I held very great power for being only 18. Of course, I had my higher ups to listen to, but from me branched our era's biggest industry: hunting.

I decided to give the analyzing a rest for now. I'd do it when I wrote it down back home. I sheathed my sword and retreated to the cabin where George was sitting up now in a sling. "Looks like I missed the best part of the hunt."

"Well it was probably the least eventful yet. You getting knocked on your ass made it exciting," I say back.

"Is that what I'm there for: your entertainment?" He tries to sound hurt, but his smile spelled out "joke" and "sarcasm" in large bright letters.

"Hey, it boosts team moral." We laugh as I place my equipment in my cabinet. He lies down on his cot as I walk back out.

Sasha sits atop the cabin now playing cheerful tunes from her hunting horn. The Kelbi prance to the tune on roadside. Hunting horns were more peaceful than one would think from looking at it. An uneducated person would see it as a large, destructive club. Really, it's very slow to maneuver. No solo hunter uses one, but in a team it plays a vital role. Depending upon the materials it's made of, the hunting horn tunes affect the nature of all of its surroundings. For this trip, Sasha brought one made of life. It is made of plants and vegetation and is tuned so that it will bring out positivity and life in its surroundings. The deadest rocks will grow moss and even plants dormant from winter could sprout alive at its sound. It can boost the attitude of our team when we're losing hope, calm pain, relax stress and strain, and even increase speed in recovering wounds. Other horns of Sasha's have effects much more useful in battle, but she didn't bring it for battle purposes mainly. To get to the jungle of our good, sleeping friend, the Congalala, we'd have to travel down a path with thick forests, tame planes, and calm valleys. It was a long trip, and with her playing her hunting horn, it brought out the best of all of the nature to create utmost ambiance and peacefulness of this journey.

Now, I lay on the deck of our cart and watch the clouds. This was bound to be our best journey yet. Nadia lies down beside me. Thank god she had that angle of my face or else she'd see the blush. I like her a lot, but with my responsibilities I can't find time to try and get closer with her or have a relationship. If we did have a relationship, I fear that it'd conflict too much with my responsibilities. As much as I'd like her to, she just didn't fit.

"You did good out there today," I say, trying to spark some sort of conversation.

"That doesn't really say much though, does it? It was a Congalala. We took like twenty steps down from our normal hunt." Her voice is beautiful. God damn, all of her is. I try to keep my cool. It takes a mighty effort.

"Well, it was a pretty fun fight."

"Not for George."

"What are you talking about? That looked fun to me."

She giggles (so fucking cute, I might add).

"Now we have a relaxing journey." I add a sigh and stretch to emphasize.

"Is it really?" she asks.

"What do you mean?" Her question struck me as rather odd.

"You always look so tense, even now. Literally, from the time you wake to when you fall asleep you have some job to do or task to fulfill. It's a wonder you ever relax if you do." She absolutely had a point in saying that. I never really do relax. That doesn't fit either, besides this which is still difficult since danger could strike at any given moment.

"Well you work with what you have." I barely do, but I'm a man of many clichés.

"You could always get rid of it and just quit."

"Well then I'd have absolutely nothing."

"What if you gave someone else the responsibility?"

"My concern is for the good of the town. Me in this position has worked very well, if I may say so. If I leave this position, it will be when I am no longer good enough or when I am given a new one by my father." My father is chief of our village. Although what I said is true and not at all arrogant, I can't deny the thought of leaving it all, even running away, has crossed my mind many a time.

"I guess you're right." She sounded sad. She really did care about me. This, of course, made liking her so much harder.

I must have dosed off when we were lying in silence. When I woke up, the sun had already set below the horizon, casting an orange glow in the sky colliding with the purple in the east. Also on the horizon was the silhouette of our town. I woke to the sound of Zach blowing the horn for our reception.

Nadia at some point had curled up into me, her head on my chest. Shit. All that went through my mind was "Shit!" Apparently this was the same for her, because when she had realized either that she had curled into me or that I noticed her (maybe both), she shot up, almost throwing herself off the cart. She laughed nervously and blushed as she walked away. Shit.

A team of reception felynes came out of the town wall. Half received the beast while the rest received us. They are peculiar little creatures. Felynes are like cat humanoids. They have cat-like features from head to toe, are bipedal, and most are lingual. Some, even, speak fluently. Felynes are like our servants. This isn't because they are lower class of life, but because they are incredibly diligent, loyal, and peaceful beings. The majority of felynes are willing servants. None are slaves. For this, we treat them extremely well.

The felynes working on our catch untie him from the cart and roll her into a reinforced cage, where she will stay until the guild comes for her. She will be taken back to headquarters for tests and experiments to further our knowledge and hunting efficiency. Although a brute, she will be handled with care and respect. When she is killed, she will be taken out quickly with the least amount of pain. Her materials will be divided up: a portion for the guild to keep and the rest for us. Upon the guild collecting her, we will receive a reward, which is taxed and distributed to the hunters of the quest, us.

We are able to enter the village empty-handed. The felynes unload everything for us. I catch eyes with Nadia once more, enough to see her blush. I probably did too. She and Zachariah retreat to their quarters immediately. Sasha sits beside the Congalala's cage and plays soft tunes for it. She feels extreme sympathy for captured creatures, even though she knows it must be done. George, although I told him to go to the medical quarters, heads for the pub. A roar of cheers greets him. It's not like I expected him to listen anyway. I consider following him, but decide to call it a day. On my way to my quarters, a felyne stops me. He is a messenger of my father's.

"Your father bids you come to him immediately. It's urgent."

It takes me a second to register, for I am exhausted. I am often called to him, but it's never so urgent. Nervous, I begin to run towards town hall to see what the matter is.