Jack Hotchkiss was out of the action for several days, and with some good reasons. His first official journey with Cleo resulted in him empty handed. Not only that, he had to run through a snowstorm at night just to get back home with Wilson. Cleo guided him back with her better night vision and memory of the carvings she made as landmarks, getting the shivering hunting home safe and sound. And it left him tired and sore. He didn't even think about going out there and trying his luck again, for it was his turn to get some rest after being saved. All he could do now was sit in bed most of the day and take it easy.
Jack spent most of the time holed up in the cabin. While recovering, he convinced Wilson to continue trying, waiting out the snowstorm that raged on from the night before. The trapper caved in and gave him a second chance when he was ready, against his gut feelings about partnering with a Weavile. The young man still had fiery determination in his eyes that it will work given enough time, as was with hunting normally. Jack was willing to play this game of patience more than ever, having gotten a taste of handling some of Wilson's big guns and being out re-engaging in one of humanity's oldest practices.
But soon enough the aspiring hunter would be out of the sanctuary of the cabin to try his luck with another day, once he wasn't so tired and sore.
Hopefully, this time will be lucky.
A few days passed and the weather was calm. A frail wind raced through the land with large clouds widely spaced apart taking turns to cover up the sun and its blue sky. It was welcoming outside for Jack, who no longer felt sore and was raring to have another go. He sat in his sleeping wear at the table, eating another big meal and feeling somewhat chilled. Cleo was at his feet looking him, silently begging for food with a cute, innocent expression as usual.
"I think I'm ready for another go."
Wilson looked at him, harshly chewing his food.
"Are you sure you're fully healed? Last time you went out there, you almost got lost in a snowstorm. And that… thing o' yours."
"And I got back because Cleo knew where to go," explained Jack, "If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't have come back. You have to hand her that, she's pretty smart. You could've gone with me still and I would've avoided the snowstorm, but still."
"Yeah, they're smart all right…" grumbled Wilson with another mouthful of food. "Smart enough to ruin everything."
Jack gave the scraps to Cleo and started to gear up for today's expedition. The first thing he did was take some of Wilson's scent killing spray and douse himself with it to eliminate any chance of potential game smelling a human in the area. With the spray, he would smell like any other game Pokémon that Wilson hunted and blend in perfectly.
Then Jack turned towards Cleo, still holding the canister. He approached her and knelt down to spray the Weavile as well. Cleo coughed from getting sprayed by the scent masker, hating the musty odor of it and trying to squirm away. The hunter persisted and waved the can up and down, making sure no spot on the Weavile was left alone. The amount Jack used made Wilson raise an eyebrow in suspicion.
"That's quite a lot. I hope you know what you're doing."
"Better more than less like last time," said Jack as he covered as much of her body with it as possible, "if both of us use this, we might attract one instead of having to chase one." Cleo hated the spray on her body. It masked her scent and made her smell like a dirty Deerling or other Pokémon she despised. Worse of all was that the Sharp Claw Pokémon possessed a stronger nose than Jack, so it smelt even worse to her. She was not happy about this at all.
When he was certain he added enough, he put the can aside to the Weavile's relief. Jack proceeded to throw on his hunting attire for the day. He had higher hopes for today since it didn't seem likely to snowstorm anytime soon. Additionally, he got a better feel for the environment and was better suited this time around.
"You sure you wanna head out there with that thing again?" Wilson asked as Jack finished preparing to head outside. His grandson gave a fed-up glare at him.
"Take a wild guess."
Boots strapped, gloves on, guns secured. He was ready for a second adventure.
Jack took some more provisions out with him to help make it a bit more bearable for him and Cleo, who was also eager to go out and score something good. Sure, she could've abandoned him a while ago and continue by herself, but she only had to do a fraction of the work involved to keep her sheltered and well fed. The tradeoff was that she also got a fraction of the entertainment, and was desperately craving some predatory fun.
"Well, wish me luck again," said Jack as he tripled checked his firearms. He pulled the collar of his coat away and sniffed downward, getting a strong musky whiff of his new odor, making him practically invisible to the Pokémon outside. Wilson sat at the table reaching for the last bit of whiskey he stowed away. He poured a shot, held it up, nodded, and drank it in a single gulp.
"Come on Cleo, let's get moving."
Cleo hoped she would get her claws painted red today in exchange for getting showered in that ugly spray.
"[Yeah, yeah.]"
The duo went into the woods and went back to the same path as before to start out. They took a slight deviation a few minutes later, trying to cover new ground. Jack kept his Encore holstered this time around, much like Wilson's magnum. His hands were free to inspect or pick up things if necessary, and it gave him a proper peace of mind of not carrying a loading gun in his hands all the time. The Sharp Claw Pokémon was forced to smell like some other, inferior prey Pokémon for who knows how long so they wouldn't get sniffed out. Cleo begrudgingly repeated her job last time of carving landmarks and scaling trees to find anything interesting from a higher vantage point. The two of them also move quicker than before to cover even more ground, for there was no point in staying in one spot and admire the scenery. No, it was better to be on the move when possible.
To pass the time, Jack tried to make idle conversation with the Weavile, lowering his voice in the case of invisible, pesky ears from other Pokémon,
"So, any of this seem familiar? Eh, who am I kidding, it all looks the same huh? It's just nice getting out of that cabin again. We'll show Wilson that we were right all along. I guess getting cranky is what happens when you become a hermit surrounded by guns, severed heads, meats, and booze. Though I can't blame him for it. I know this will work out if we have a little patience."
Cleo gave indirect responses, letting him know she was listening a little to keep him going. The Sharp Claw Pokémon still didn't like the fact she was sprayed with some gross, musky chemical all over her body.
"Well, when we find one, I'm gonna take it back before doing any of the gross work, like dressing it. Hell, maybe we'll get to use some of its guts in a recipe or something. That'll be a nice treat for everybody, especially you."
"[Uh-huh, yeah yeah, let's not get ahead of ourselves.]"
Jack could easily tell that Cleo was acting arrogant, especially from being coated with the scent masker. He wondered if she would break off and flee in annoyance or pursuit of action.
This continued for quite a while, while the sun still hung high in the sky. Seconds went by and turned into minutes speeding past with chitchat, making it go by quicker than it seemed. All of a sudden, Cleo cried out and darted ahead of Jack, having picked up something he didn't. She crouched down and put her face to the snow, looking and sniffing intently. Jack caught up to her to investigate.
They were hooved tracks, looking a little like a large beak on its side in the snow. The tracks seemed to come from the left of Cleo's position and trail further to the right, pulling up just a little bit. Right in front of the tracks was a girthy tree with a foot-long strip of bark completely scratched off the side. A few thinner streaks of shaved bark adorned the sides of the big mark, and there were tree bark shavings scattered all over the ground. From Cleo's enthusiasm, a Stantler or Sawsbuck walked by recently and made its mark. That meant it probably wasn't that far away from where they were!
"Fresh marks," said Jack quietly to Cleo, "looks like we know where we're going now."
Jack motioned to Cleo to take the lead since she was shorter and closer to the ground, being able to follow the tracks more precisely than Jack could. She chuckled and picked up the pace again, walking alongside the tracks, expecting them to lead them to the Pokémon that made them. The hunter stopped talking and became much more focused. He drew the Encore from his holster, ready to run into any Pokémon.
It was exciting for Jack and Cleo both. The tracks were the first sign of activity from other Pokémon they ran across in days. Being able to actively stalk a Pokémon was a much-needed activity by both of them. And they seemed fresh, which boosted their chances of success. The tracks continued in a straight line, occasionally twisting and bending around trees or for no reason in the otherwise clear ground. Or sometimes the line of tracks turned into small holes piling up from the Pokémon pausing and looking for food underneath the blanket of snow, even dragging its feet a little while doing so. Both were dead set on finding the Pokémon.
Cleo stopped and quickly scaled a nearby tree, trying to see if she can locate it from above. The eager Weavile climbed higher than she usually died, feeling confident that the Pokémon they are stalking will turn up. Both hands were embedded in the stiff, thick wood as Cleo scanned the horizon. There, she saw a single, light brown object with a tinge of yellow above it face-down in the snow. It was the Stantler they were stalking, no doubt about it. It momentarily stopped to raise its head and look to its left, thinking there was danger over there. When nothing happened, the Stantler continued to try to graze on the grass hidden underneath its feet, totally oblivious to where the real danger was. Cleo scampered down the tree, eager to share the new information.
Back on ground level, she ran up to Jack and pointed at the direction she saw the brown figure. She was almost ready to sprint off and claim it for herself, leaving behind the human now that he was no longer useful in her eyes. The Pokémon's body language and enthusiasm plainly conveyed her impatience and arrogance. Her uppity behavior could throw away this hunt if he didn't act fast and calm her down. But she waited this long for action; she should hang on a little more just to be safe.
The hunter squatted down and put on hand on her shoulder to calm her a little. Then he showed his Encore to the Weavile, twisting it around to show the bullets held in the stock band. The Sharp Claw Pokémon eyed the rifle, thinking it was silly bringing that gun when he had her at his disposal. What could it be with its noise and weight?
But then Cleo remembered the stories spoken to her about obliterating anything in its path in an instant. And there were some pretty big and clean holes punched into the fake Pokémon the human shot with other firearms, capable of making any tundra predator green with envy from the destructive potential from one of them. Those targets were not made of flesh and blood and thus did not have much appeal to the predatory Pokémon. The Stantler both of them stalked, on the other hand…
"Let me handle things," Jack said while standing up. Cleo played along and gave a reluctant, obedient cry. She did her part in figuring out where the Stantler was, and now it was Jack's turn to make a contribution. Cleo pointed at the direction where the Stantler was once more and Jack kept the muzzle pointed in front of him. He went into a somewhat hunched-over crouch and quickly shuffled through the frosty wilderness.
Just a few minutes later, the outdoorsman and his companion came to a small clearing in the middle of the thick woodlands, and in front of them was the Stantler they stalked. A few paces to their right were the footprints leading up to the Stantler, leading them directly to it. The hunting duo had struck natural gold, taking a second to appreciate the stalked Pokémon's features.
It had a handsome brown-gray pelt with two slightly curved antlers growing out of its head, measuring no more than Jack's thumb in size. A tiny, darkened orb was crowned on top of the stubby antlers. All of the Stantler's features indicated that it was a young one experiencing perhaps his second winter. It was leisurely grazing on frozen grass, minding its own business and blissfully ignorant of impending doom. It was about twenty yards from where Jack was, far enough that accuracy problems can take effect for a shooter like him. The hunter was breathless as he eyed the Big Horn Pokémon from this distance. Cleo was peering around from a nearby tree, impatiently watching from around a woody corner.
Suddenly, a mild gust came from behind the hunting duo, carrying their scents with them. Jack's heart skipped a beat and fixed his eyes on the Stantler, forcing him to prop himself against a tree to conceal himself. Jack feared that his cover was completely blown by the wind carrying his foreign scent to the Stantler in spite of spraying himself. The Big Horn Pokémon raised its head again and sniffed the air curiously, turning around from where the wind blew. To the Stantler, he smelled what he thought was a Sawsbuck behind him.
Curiously, the Stantler took a few steps behind and scanned the landscape to see if he was alone. The Big Horn Pokémon gave another whiff to the frigid air, hardly smelling anything at all now. Everything seemed inconspicuous, but something was telling him to move on, just in case. It wasn't like he was going to settle down and make this area his permanent home anyway. Although he could stay just a little bit longer since the grass he could dig up was rather tasty here. There was no immediate danger, so why rush things?
The Stantler turned its back towards the hunting pair once more, returning to the grazing spot it made. Jack propped himself against a tree, holding his breath and listening intently while his gun was braced against his chest; the muzzle was resting near his shoulder and slanting downward across his chest so it wouldn't stick out the side. He closed his eyes to help him focus better, and heard a distant, crisp crunch coming from the other side of the tree. Judging from the distance and volume from the crunch, the Stantler was walking away from them slowly. The young man boldly peered from the tree and saw the Big Horn Pokémon slowly walking away from them, thinking little of it. The scent hider seemed to have worked to the hunters' delight.
But the hunters was running out of time. Jack aimed his Encore at the Stantler and zeroed his scope, capable of shooting it right now. The problem was he was directly behind it, putting him at an undesirable angle. The best he could do was to go for a headshot from this position, but he would probably miss and scare it off. Not to mention, he wanted a trophy for himself to commemorate his first successful hunt. Even if he did shoot it in the head, it would result in a wasted trophy. Jack had to get a better angle.
Quickly, the hunter circled to the right of the Stantler, stomping through the snow recklessly. He was going to position himself to aim at the body from the side, a much larger target than its head. From there, he could go for a vital organ shot like Wilson taught him how. Jack was not going to let this opportunity slide, and see what wrath Wilson could bring upon finding out that they weren't bringing in results. The moment Jack was perfectly perpendicular to the Stantler's broadside, the outdoorsman cocked his gun and took aim at the Pokémon's heart. Frigid, frosty air was sucked in and held on tight before Jack made a call to the oblivious Big Horn Pokémon.
"Mbreh!"
It caught the Pokémon's attention and stopped it from trotting off further into the white woodlands. The Stantler turned to face the sound, having only a second to process what was going on. The Pokémon locked eyes with the tall, foreign figure, not fully understanding what it was or what do. Jack lined up his scope on top of the Stantler's heart and gave the trigger a firm squeeze.
*BAAAAANG*
The gunshot rippled through the frozen atmosphere, instantly striking the Big Horn Pokémon where it hurt most. Every neuron in its body instantly switched to flight, and the Stantler immediately sprinted off in sheer fear and pain much faster and farther than the hunter thought. By the time the outdoorsman took his eye away from the scope, the Stantler had already put about a hundred in front of him and was starting to tumble. Cleo witnessed it all from the sidelines, finally getting her bloodlust satiated from knowing the death of yet another Pokémon she deemed inferior would soon arrive. Jack stood in place like a statue, gripping his rifle and staring at the spot the Stantler once was.
The young man took a moment to take it all in. He finally managed to shoot a Pokémon out in a true, fierce hunting environment. The young man finally got his first official game Pokémon. A young Stantler whose antlers were just beginning to grow and take shape, but his first real hunting kill nonetheless. Not simply shooting, but hunting as intended. Through perseverance and tracking in nature.
At first, he couldn't believe it, making quiet laughs in disbelief.
"Oh..ohoho…"
But then it sunk in, making the young man brim with prideful self-recognition of being a hunter; being a real man in his eyes.
"Hohoheheheaaaah, haa!"
Cleo ran forward as there was no reason for her to remain hidden now.
"I did it! I finally did it! You don't know how happy I am! My first hunting kill, and I did it! Oh, you don't know how happy I feel!"
Jack holstered his gun, crouched down, and spreading his arms to beckon Cleo to come closer. She figured she might as well come closer and get some more of his positive energy for shooting a Pokémon. Cleo commended him with several complimentary "Weave! [Nice!]" cries and went closer to the human. His arms quickly folded in and wrapped around her, hugging Cleo for helping him out. Jack's chin and jawline rubbed against the top of Cleo's head, causing him to pull her even tighter from her luxurious fur brushing against his cold and exposed skin. The huntress blushed a little in his arms, feeling her body readily take in some of the bountiful body heat coming from the big human. She felt comfortable and happy in Jack's arms, having never been hugged like this before. It was strange and unheard of to her, but… she genuinely enjoyed being embraced in Jack's arms.
Jack loosened up a little and stared down at the dark purple Pokémon in his grasp. Cleo gave a few tender licks on Jack's face, showing that she was as mirthful as he was. Jack laughed at getting his face licked by Cleo and stood back up. The huntress's eyes drooped and frowned a little at being pulled away. Maybe Jack would do it again later.
"Now now, it's not over yet," said Jack as he walked towards the small splotch of freezing blood left behind by the Stantler. "We still have a Stantler to recover. I hoped that he would drop instantly, but oh well. Quite a lot of blood, must've hit him in the heart, hmm. Shouldn't be hard to track down. He couldn't have gotten that far, I hope."
Jack faced the narrow, scattered trail of blood accompanying the fresh set of tracks made by the Stantler sprinting desperately away. He called towards the admiring Weavile to get a move on and follow the wounded Stantler through the blood trail. The scent of fresh blood warmed her up and gave her a taste of that predatory, murderous high she craved. Both hunters went off to find the Stantler.
Because he was finally successful in finding and shoot a Stantler, Jack liked being outside for hours in sub-zero weather, carrying guns and tracking down good game. Maybe it was him finally getting used to the wild winter woodlands that his grandfather spent so many years in. Or, maybe Jack was just relishing in the payoff of all his patience. The young man agreed with his mentor that the Ratatta he shot as a hired gun for his friend shouldn't be counted for hunting something, as Wilson explained the difference between hunting and shooting. This was hunting, no doubt about it, one of humanity's oldest practices. Jack thought it was thrilling. And all he had to do now was reclaim his rightful kill.
But Cleo was a different case. The Weavile started to view Jack, and overall feel a little… different. Her breathing picked up a little more while her attitude was more clingy and playful. She felt warmer on the inside, especially between her legs, where it was the warmest. It went from being pleasantly warm to more of an insatiable itch, and every so often when Jack wasn't looking, she would try to lightly scratch that sensitive itch in between her legs.
Cleo was entering the first stages of estrus; slowly being overtaken by hormones pressuring her to seek out a male to mate and reproduce with. Few other thoughts were popping up in her mind barring killing and consumption of other Pokémon, or satisfying her newfound, mature needs. The Pokémon hardly thought about such things when she was a Sneasel, but now she was a Weavile and getting wrapped up in heating hormones. She seriously contemplated running off after the kill to find a potential Pokémon mate to get together with. However, that meant she would be leaving the human alone, possibly forgetting all about him with her mate. And this was assuming that she could find one after going back to living a lonely life.
Although… she could stay around and project those fantasies onto the human that helped her out. What with his size, capable of making healthy offspring, and his weapon that could kill just about anything instantly on a whim…
The Weavile pushed those thoughts aside and took a whiff near the freshly spilled marking of blood on the snow, reminding her that there was still prey to recover.
"[Maybe later…]"