Chapter 5: Cutting Teeth

Kalevala: Four Cycles Later:

Jarek sat by the fire in front of the dwelling. He'd made it himself, just as he'd been taught; bow-drill, some tender, a little friction and he had a blaze. Myler had taught him many things in the last few cycles. Every time he went out on a hunt, Jarek had joined him, learning the art of tracking and stalking prey. He'd memorized the landscape of the valley, as well as the myriad of useful plants and minerals that existed therein. He'd learned of all the species of herd beasts and predators along with their strengths and weaknesses. When they weren't hunting or gathering, they sparred with everything from blades to fists. Naturally, Myler was the victor given his size, skill, and strength, but that never stopped Jarek from trying to win.

"It's not the size of the beast in the fight. It's the size of the fight in the beast." Myler had told him once and the words had stuck.

Myler had also shown him every conceivable means of surviving on his own; keeping warm in the cold; cool in the heat; how to fashion tools, weapons, and traps from his surroundings. Most importantly how to fashion his armor as well. Every day there was a new lesson to learn, and there was always another lesson.

In that time, they'd actively avoided the clan, choosing to interact only with other outsiders. The only time they did, involved a wordless exchange between Myler and a tradesman to sell the Cube Jarek had discovered. Despite the lack of verbal exchange, the two managed to find an agreeable price; several pounds of beskar iron in exchange for the cube.

Myler explained the iron would be used to fashion his own beskar'gam one day but not until he had fully grown. It did little good to waste the finite amount of ore before he had finished maturing. It was a frustrating dilemma, but he agreed in the end before refocusing on his training.

Now he was just over eleven cycles old. Though all knees and elbows, Jarek had grown several inches. The hard life of surviving in the wild had caused lean muscle to develop.

Sitting patiently by the fire he finished honing the edge of his kal before testing it. It had seen much use in carving up many of Myler's kills and many more uses as a tool in the bush. Myler had taken him through dozens of drills to familiarize him with the use of the blade in close quarters. What he'd learned was that he never wanted to be that close to an enemy. If he ever did, he'd be ready.

Though their interaction with the rest of the clan was limited to the one trade exchange, Jarek had on occasion snuck off to spy on Kart'a'buir. Like before he tracked the children and mothers as they went about their day. His excuse was that it allowed him to refine his stealth skills. In reality, it was the closest he could get to a real mother figuratively and literally. Whenever the mother spoke to a child, he pretended it was he who was hearing the words, and when a child replied to the mother it was, he who spoke. It wasn't much but in a small way it was a balm on his aching, yearning heart.

Jarek also watched Jilo. The dark-skinned girl had grown as well. Like him, she had grown taller and long-limbed. She had a generous spirit and bore a maternal grace. He'd seen her admonish the other children just as the mothers would've done and it made him laugh. Jarek had even gone as far as to let her see him on occasion, and every time she'd smile and wave.

"Ad'ika!"

Thoroughly distracted Jarek almost jumped when Myler's voice rang out from within the dwelling. He leaped to his feet, sheathing his knife, and jogged into the house. Myler was in full armor, helmet beneath his arm. He was dressed for a hunt. Jarek swallowed his frustration and prepared himself for another day of stalking and herding prey while his father made the kill. It wasn't glorious but he knew it was necessary.

In his focus, he almost missed Myler's next words.

"It's time you showed me what you have learned," he said tossing him his carbine, and Jarek caught it. It took him a full second to process what his father had said and by then the older Mandalorian was already headed to the door. "I am hungry," he stated flatly gesturing out towards the wilds. He put his helmet on and looked down at his son. "Feed us."

Excitement coursed through Jarek as he slung his weapon and dashed out into the cool morning air, his father right behind him. He slowed just long enough to look back and ask, "Buir, what're we hunting?"

Myler kept his gaze ahead and answered in a flat tone, "You are hunting a Grazer."

Jarek pictured the creature in his mind. At its shoulder, it was as tall as a strider but with a longer neck and lean legs perfect for bounding strides. Adorning its head would be a pair of antlers perfect for gorging assaulting predators. They normally travel in small family groups; a couple of bucks surrounded by many females.

They followed the trail out of the dwelling and when they came to the fork Jarek asked, "Which way?"

"Your hunt," Myler said his tone flat, "You tell me."

The boy paused and thought for a bit. At that time of year, the beasts would be coming into their winter weight as they thickened to adapt to the decreasing temperatures. They would also be moving up out of the valley to find better grazing.

"South?" he suggested glancing up and down each path.

He felt his father stare at him. "Is that a question?" he asked.

Jarek mentally chastised himself. This was a test. His first real test and he was already acting like a fledgling hunter, which he was most certainly not. "South," he declared confidently and headed in that direction.

The further they traveled the denser the forest became, and he forced himself to slow and take in his surroundings. Myler's many lessons ran through his mind and he had to force himself to breathe and calm down to focus. There is no chaos only harmony, he thought to himself. As he moved down the path, he could sense his father right behind him. Watching him. He would not fail.

Moments later Jarek saw the first sign.

"Look. Tracks," he stated in a low tone. He paused and knelt examining the prints. The snow and dirt beneath them were recently churned, no more than a few minutes old. "They're fresh." Myler nodded and Jarek followed the direction of the prints, "This way."

Jarek took off at a low crouch keeping his eyes ahead at the tracks, following the beasts long loping strides through the brush. From the style of prints, he determined that every so often the creature would come to a halt. Wherever it did he found signs of grazing before it leaped off again. The longer he tracked the fresher the prints became and soon he would gain sight of it.

Suddenly the Grazer in question stood up and looked directly at Jarek who skidded to a halt. The creature must've doubled back on its trail. Jarek would've shot it right then and there but it galloped off in a spray of snow.

"Found it!" he declared dryly, angry that his prey had taken him by surprise and set off in pursuit.

"Slow down ad'ika," Myler ordered.

Jarek dropped from a run to a steady walk at his father's words. "Sorry," he apologized. He'd let his eagerness get the better of him.

"You must think. Not simply react," Myler counseled in a soft tone, "Be calm and plan."

Jarek sighed in exasperation but nodded just the same. He wasn't used to leading the hunt. If he was expected to lead any more, he had to remember Myler's instruction and bring down his prey just as he was taught.

They continued to follow the grazer's trail. Its path caused them to stumble across the slaughtered carcass of a strider. Jarek approached cautiously with his weapon raised as did Myler. He examined the remains and felt his nose wrinkle.

"What happened here?" he asked noting that the meat and limbs hadn't been ripped or chewed off as a Hound might've done. Rather they'd been hacked off by some crude edged weapon. It certainly wasn't the work of a clan hunter or Outcast. There was too much wasted meat.

"The Kroot happened," Myler growled. He looked closely and touched the slaughtered meat. Bugs had already started in on it. In a couple of areas, it seemed like a scavenger had taken chunks. "It's several hours old, maybe more, but we must be cautious." Jarek nodded and they continued.

Aside from the various Mandalorian clans, the only other group of intelligent life forms that lived on the planet was the native Kroot. Tall, lanky bipedal, reptiles they'd evolved from the same root species as the other creatures. They were savage but possessed a keen intelligence that allowed them to fashion tools and weapons making them a formidable adversary to the lone hunter or warrior. Still, the Kroot tribes were scattered and mostly leaderless being self-immolating at best and cannibalistic at the worst. None had ever attempted to attack a settlement, but still, their savagery was well known and Jarek remembered that he had to respect their power.

They rounded a corner in the trail and came to break in the trees. Up ahead stood the grazer. It's head up and scanning its surroundings.

There it is! He thought excitedly and hastily shouldered his blaster and took aim.

"Hold," hissed his father but it was too late. Jarek pulled the trigger before he'd steadied his aim. The shot went wide. The grazer bugled in alarm and raced off into the cover of the trees. Myler snatched the blaster from Jarek's hands. "What were you thinking?" He demanded, clutching the weapon.

Jarek cast his gaze downward in shame realizing just how many mistakes he'd made. He hadn't attacked from a position of stealth and neither had he settled on a good sight picture. For that, his prey had escaped.

"Now it's guard is up," Myler snapped angrily, "Only fire-" He paused at the sight of Jarek's ashamed expression and took a deep breath before continuing in a calmer tone "...only fire when I tell you to fire."

Jarek nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Be better," Myler stated and gestured in the direction the beast had fled, "Find it." Jarek nodded and reached for the weapon but Myler pulled it away and slung it over his shoulder. "Find...it."

Sighing Jarek turned and set off after the escaping grazer, Myler close behind. He kept mentally punishing himself but knew that wouldn't help him in his task. He focused his energy back onto tracking his prey.

The trail lead from the valley proper back into the forested edges of the valley wall. The beast was spooked and wouldn't stop until it felt it was safe. Unfortunately, that meant leading the pair of them on a merry chase into unknown regions of the valley.

The trees broke once more but rather than seeing the Grazer as he'd hoped, they found themselves in an open glade flanked by two low flat boulders. The Grazer's trail led across the glade, between the boulders and back into the trees.

Jarek was just starting to cut through the glade when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Instincts kicked in. He dove forward, rolling it his feet. Adrenalin coursed through his veins at the sight of what stood before him. Until that day he'd never seen such a creature, but he knew enough from Myler to determine its identity.

Angry red eyes glared at him as scaly lips curled back revealing rows of sharp teeth. Its main of black quills decorated with beads bristled with aggression and rage. It raised from its crouching position and stood a full six feet supported by lean double-jointed legs clutching a long-barreled slug thrower with crude blades affixed below its barrel and buttstock.

The Kroot warrior hissed at him and started to raise its weapon when Myler roared out in a challenge. The Kroot turned and saw the Mandalorian with beskad and blaster pistol in hand. It spread its arms replying with a screeching roar of its own.

"My blaster!" Jarek called out eager to assist his father.

"No!" Myler replied jumping back as the Kroot took a swing at him with his bladed rifle, "You are not ready! Stay back!" The Kroot attacked again this time with an overarm swing and Myler caught it with the flat side of his beskad. He twisted slightly allowing the Kroot's momentum to carry its body into the barrel of his pistol. He pulled the trigger twice. Jarek only heard a pair of muffled thumps. The Kroot screeched in pain before going limp. Myler allowed its body to fall to the ground.

Myler was about to address Jarek when two more Kroot appeared atop each boulder. Howling, both Kroot leaped down intending to close in for the kill. Myler became a blur of motion. He flung his beskad at the one to his left, forcing it to duck and roll. At the same time, he aimed his pistol at the other Kroot and dropped it with a few well-placed shots. The first Kroot had already covered the distance between them by the time Myler turned. Myler attempted to aim but the pistol was knocked from his hand. Rather than retreat, which is what the Kroot had expected, Myler ducked and launched himself forward into the beast's midriff. Pumping his legs hard, Myler drove the off-balanced creature back up against the side of the boulder. The creature hissed as the impact drove the air from its lungs. Myler brought his helmeted head up catching the Kroot under the chin. Dazed it failed to retaliate in time to stop Myler from drawing and plunging his kal into its throat.

Myler stepped back, breathing hard, allowing the bloody corpse to fall lifelessly to the ground. Quickly and methodically he cleaned and sheathed his dagger. Once he had retrieved his beskad and pistol, Myler looked around at his son the picture of calm and collected nerves. Jarek had always known his father was a skilled warrior but to finally see him in action...words couldn't describe his adoration. He also knew his father wasn't one for platitudes and accolades.

Instead, Jarek knelt and examined the nearest dead Kroot. He'd never seen one up close before and found them dreadfully fascinating. They were a shocking mixture of the alien and the familiar reminding him of the other creatures they'd hunted over the cycles. He didn't hate them as many Outcasts and clansmen did. He had no reason to, but now with an idea of their capabilities and seeing firsthand the look of savagery in their eyes, he now knew to be wary of them. Like his father he would strike hard and fast, keeping them off balance and not letting them bring their superior speed to bare.

Another lesson learned.

"Keep moving," Myler ordered. Jarek looked up at him noticing the streaks of dark green blood adorning the front of his armor. Strangely it did nothing to take away the effectiveness of the camouflage. At Myler's insistent nod, Jarek stood and continued the hunt.

A few minutes up the path Jarek couldn't help but make a pointed observation. "You know, if you give me my blaster back, I can help you fight. I'm ready."

"You have yet to prove that" Myler replied simply.

"I need a chance," Jarek argued keeping a close watch on the trail ahead and the surrounding trees.

"You had a chance," Myler replied referring to his missed shot earlier.

Jarek felt his cheeks burn in embarrassment but continued with a determined tone. "Give me another."

"Then find that grazer," Myler stated flatly quickly ending the conversation.