Author: Cindy England
Disclaimers: Characters presented within are property of Rushwater Holt. ElfQuest is copyright Warp Graphics Inc..
"Father! Father, wake up!" The violet eyed cub pounced onto the den's sleeping furs, a bundle of pent-up excitement. "Where's Mother? She's suppose to take me on my first hunt!"
"Ugh, oh, Dreamberry," Gildedvale moaned from under his furs, removing his bouncing cub's knee from his stomach. "Have you checked outside yet?"
Dreamberry stopped bouncing. "No." Then sudden realization spread across her face and she sprang up off Gildedvale and scrambled out of the den and outside.
Gildedvale couldn't help but sigh and shake his head as he watched his cub's brown pony tail bob from side to side as she tore across the holt to the Elder Tree in search of Thicket. Just last day Dreamberry had stayed up extra late, practicing with her spear and throwing daggers until exhausted, she had fallen asleep. Only then were Gildedvale and Thicket able to bring her inside to rest. A wide smirk crossed Gildedvale's lips as he burrowed back into his furs to sleep again - Thicket would be the first hunt supervisor tonight and the cub would be her handful to deal with.
Thicket was indeed outside. Dreamberry found her by the Elder Tree talking to Soulseeker and Woodshine while she tightened the bindings on her spear. She looked up with a smile as Dreamberry ran towards the group, obviously eager to be on their way.
"Come on, Mother!" Dreamberry begged impatiently. "We should get out soon before we miss all the good game and we still have to go up to the pack caves and get Fleetfoot and Denmother!" Dreamberry was now tugging on Thicket's tunic.
"Not yet, dear," Thicket said. "We have to wait for Slingstone. And Purehaven will be joining us, too."
"Slingstone!" Dreamberry cried, "but he'll ruin everything!"
"Dreamberry! Mind your tongue!" Thicket reprimanded her cub. "Slingstone may have had some bad luck on his past first hunts but you will share yours with him or you can stay here alone."
"But Mother -" Dreamberry whined.
"No buts." Thicket returned to her spear.
Pouting, Dreamberry walked off to the pack caves to find her wolf-friend, Fleetfoot. Bringing Slingstone along was sure to be a disaster waiting to happen - the youth was jinxed, she was sure. He had already been on three first hunts of his own and each one had ended with some sort of disaster. Dreamberry didn't want that to happen to her first hunt, too, not after she'd worked so hard to prepare.
Maybe that's why Purehaven had decided to come along, she thought. He was older than both she or Slingstone and Thicket said he would be a healer some day, if his magic ever showed up. Dreamberry was doubtful though, she hadn't seen any sign of his healing magic. But then again, Thicket had also said Slingstone was Hunt, like Thicket, and would join the hunting party in due time. Dreamberry snorted at the thought - Slingstone couldn't even successfully complete his first hunt so how did her mother figure he was Hunt?
Dreamberry hunkered down outside the pack caves to wait for the rest of the party, Fleetfoot licking her face. She didn't have to wait long and soon she could see her mother's spear and the rest of the elves climbing the rocks to the pack caves. Dreamberry hastily stood up and shook herself off, attempting to look happy and excited again. She knew that if she tried to protest Slingstone's coming along again that her mother would growl at her and make her go back to the holt. She knew better than to test her mother's patience.
Slingstone was indeed coming. Being a handful of years older than Dreamberry, he tried to look superior but still managed to show a sheepish, almost apologetic grin. Purehaven and Thicket payed neither cub any heed and proceeded to call forth their wolf-friends for the special hunt.
Soon the small group were on their way, Thicket and Dreamberry in the lead so that mother could keep an eye on cub. Slingstone and Purehaven brought up the rear. All was well and as it should be - so far.
**Mother, tracks! And we're in luck, it's pheasant!** Dreamberry sent excitedly. Pheasant was one of her favourite meals and she had wanted to catch one for its decorative plumage, hoping to add its tail feathers to her otherwise plain pony tail.
**Pheasants? You're not serious, are you?** Slingstone sent, clearly annoyed at the idea.
Dreamberry turned to face him. **Why wouldn't I be serious?** Already he was ruining her first hunt.
**Because,** Slingstone retorted, **Pheasant are small and easy to catch - they're not worthy of a first hunt catch.**
Stung, Dreamberry opened her mouth to tell her accusor just how snotty she thought he was, how he was ruining her first hunt just like all his other failed attempts, how she never wanted him to come along in the first place and how she thought he'd never make the hunting party. However, she stopped short of her tantrum at the sight of Thicket's spear shaft appearing before her face; her mother's stern glare of disapproval just beyond.
**Beyond you two not being able to work together, there's no reason we can't hunt pheasant as well as other game tonight,** Thicket sent evenly. **Dreamberry, you want to hunt pheasant - fine. Slingstone, what do you want to hunt?**
Slingstone's face finally lit up at the though of really being a part of the group rather than the tag-along that no one wanted. **Fisher cat,** he replied proudly.
Thicket nodded. The elves' hunting territory around the holt was comprised of a great many types of game. Fisher cats were small felines no taller than one's knee that snatched up fish from the river with its paws. The animals would sit patiently on its rock for hours waiting for just the right strike.
Perhaps some of the other elves wouldn't have allowed fisher cats to be hunted on a first hunt but Thicket felt that Slingstone was up to the challenge. Indeed, he should have completed his first hunt at Dreamberry's age. Besides, Thicket was not like most elves when it came to hunting.
**Can we go now?** Dreamberry sent, her feathers ruffled. **We have fresh tracks so pheasant first.**
Thicket exchanged an exasperated glance with Purehaven before nodding. Dreamberry's rambuctious attitude reminded Thicket of what she must have been like at that age. More than once she had told Gildedvale that having such a handful of a cub must have been her long dead parents' getting even with her after all the commotion she herself caused in her youth.
Thicket and Purehaven fell back on their wolf-friends, allowing the youngsters to track and lead the way. Slingstone was actually the better tracker of the two, Dreamberry tended to be too hyper and not give her full attention to the task. However, this time Dreamberry was sharp and alert dispite her renewed excitement. Perhaps the competativeness of the two cubs together was having a positive effect, Thicket mused.
The underbrush was now giving way to a small clearing lush with soft moss across the ground and tiny shrubs loaded with berries and bugs, a pheasant's delight. Sure enough, there was a small flock of the skittish birds off on the far side of the clearing.
Silently laying down her spear, Dreamberry creeped up to the clearing, it was easy to do on the thick moss. She pulled out her two throwing daggers, both made from the strange brightmetal, they had been brought back from a troll raid and she had quickly learned to use them.
Her violet eyes wide and intent on her chosen prey, she sank the first dagger into the moss beside her for easy reach. Lightly fingering the second dagger, she propt herself up and aimed. If she missed the first shot, she likely wouldn't get a second but she'd try.
The dagger flew across the clearing, glinting briefly in the moonlight before burying itself to the hilt just beyond the pheasants. It had been a close miss, having clipped the feathers of the largest bird. Panicking, the birds shot up from their feeding, half flying, half running - straight toward Dreamberry.
Quietly cursing herself for her poor throw but pleased she had spooked them towards her, Dreamberry grabbed at her second dagger. Her second throw was more reflex than aim and she and the elves behind her dove for cover as the flock scrambled over and around them.
When the flurry of wings and feathers was over, Dreamberry poked her head over the bushes in search of her weapons. To her utter amazement she discovered a fair sized pheasant squewared to her second dagger - a shot she was sure had been in vain. Picking up the weapon and prey, she turned to face the rest of the party now coming into the clearing, her wide eyes and slack jaw bringing laughter to all.
More than content with her success, Dreamberry plucked two of the longest feathers from the bird and stuck them in her hair. Grinning, she showed Thicket her prize and then went to retrieve her other weapons.