Chapter 10

"Respect"

I must resist the urge to join the hunt, because if I don't, I would abandon my true purpose for primal instinct. It had been a season since I last saw a hunt in motion and it filled me with the same determination and drive and focus as it did those in pursuit of their prey. The hunt of Damon Doom Seer had flushed many creatures from their intended paths, including the Stantler, hoofed deer with large noses and pronged oval shaped antlers that looked like eyes perpetually caught in a stare. Hence, their name.

To escape the Mighty Hena's wrath, they had fled to the opposite side of the mountain. The side which we now descended. The rocky hillside and tree studded soil was unfamiliar terrain, but the opportunity had been too great to miss. A herd of Stantler had come across our path and Alpha called for a hunt to satisfy our hunger. The journey to Castle Rock had been scarce of food and the proceedings themselves led to emptier bellies. The pack was ravenous, and I longed to join them, but the pups had not yet witnessed a hunt. There were important lessons to be learned, so I took them up on the ridge where I knew Alpha would lead the hunt below.

Omega sat on the opposite side of the pups so that they did not accidentally tumble off of the edge in their excitement. It was hard not to leap to one's paws when the herd of Stantler came bounding into view below. Their hooves pounded the leaf litter flat and clacked off of the rocks as they thundered across the mountainside toward us. We crouched low, hiding our more noticeable silver fur with our backs and our paws. It was still too early to reveal ourselves. Some of the pack, led by Hunter and Scout, crested the hill in full force after the herd. They streaked through the trees, weaving in and out of the brush to keep the herd running towards the cliff face.

I counted their numbers and glanced to the side where I knew the rest were waiting. Bands of shadow ran parallel to the Stantler, purposefully revealing their positions. Several Stantler broke free from their tightening pursuit, but those were not the ones we were after. There was a larger group led by a male whose eyes were wide with reaction and quick thinking. The antlers on his head held an everlasting gaze of confident determination that was never far from the truth in his own eyes. Sweat beaded on his flank. Air puffed from his nostrils in heavy, but controlled breaths.

I felt the power of his stride rumble through the earth even from upon the outcrop. The rhythmic beat of his hooves cleared the way for the ones behind him who could not keep pace. He was the prize all Mighty Hena hunted for. A chance to ascend into the pack. Prey worth making a name of. And we would help them. The herd leaned towards the start of the outcrop where the rocks were just low enough to scale. If they jumped here, they would escape to the elevated woods beyond. It was a height no Mighty Hena could match. But that was why I placed the pups here.

"Now!" I shouted.

They stood and began howling and yipping. Omega and I ran along the cliff towards the jumping point, feigning an attempt to meet the Stantler head on if they leapt above the rocks. The voices of the pups gave life to our shadows, and when I combined them with my manipulation of the Spirit, we falsely increased our numbers. The sudden shock of our loud and bold appearance triggered a defensive movement in the herd. They branched away from the rocks in the other direction towards the woods where the others were waiting. Alpha, Keen Eye, and others rushed in for the ambush, smooth and swift as if they lived their entire lives on the mountain. The hunt was so engrained in their paws that they had no trouble adjusting to the terrain. Every muscle and tendon stretched and bent exactly to their will.

The herd splintered into chaos at the unexpected assault. Tan and white bodies flashed through the trees in every direction. Omega and I doubled back towards the pups with more howling and barking to remind the scattering deer what awaited them at the rocks if they tried to go back. Alpha's faction split apart in pursuit of potential prey. Most would miss their catch, but increasing the panic and testing their luck was part of their purpose. It also gave them a chance to hone their skills. The core three remained on track, pursuing the small band of Stantler still led by the stag. They gained ground in the chaos, building strength as Hunter and his party merged into formation.

They ran close, feeling out one another's presence to build a silent strategy from their experience hunting together. With a signal from Alpha, they spread out to begin the final attack. Up ahead, a ridge divided the trail. It was where Alpha would make his move. They were going to try and corner some of the Stantler in the rocks. The deer drew closer, running perilously close to the pack. They had nowhere to go but straight into the crossroads. Then, it happened. Alpha sprinted into the herd with a sudden burst of speed. His great hulking form split the herd down the two paths.

Three Stantler darted sideways towards the woods. Hunter and the other Mighty Hena on the matching side peeled off after them, cutting them off in preparation of the deviation. Hooves and tails flew over them as the deer found hard footing on the rocks. They leapt with such ferocity that the stampeding went silent. Alpha and his running mates pivoted after the stag and another Stantler that went down the second path, straight into a dead end created by the jagged cliff face. The line of Alpha's focus bit into the stag's flesh as a means to cripple him before the real thing could finish the job.

Alpha wanted those antlers. This prey was not like the others. He was a true test of the Mighty Hena's skill and endurance. The stag felt the pressure and risked glancing back. Teeth snapped at his legs. One mistake and he'd lose everything. The cliff face approached. The stag did not slow or hesitate or doubt. Instead, he leapt straight into the cliff, finding the smallest of hoof-holds and propelled himself diagonally across its face. It was a trail no Hena could see, let alone follow.

Down below, its counterpart skid to a stop, then tried to jump up the cliff, but it did not have the strength or the speed. It could not catch the rock, and by then, the pack had abandoned all else and turned their attention on the straggler caught between their teeth and the rocks. The Stantler backed into the stone as more of the pack gathered around him. There was no escape. Its antlers could not hypnotize so many hungry eyes at once. The Stantler lowered its head and charged in an attempt to clear a path, but it only opened the space behind it. Mighty Hena quickly filled it. It was only a matter of time until Alpha and the others brought it down.

Even the stag was not yet free despite his impressive display of dexterity. He climbed sideways across the rock face towards Omega and the pups. The stag lost none of his determination, even when he and I realized he would appear directly in front of us. He challenged our bluff and I could not hold it. Not when his antlers were so wide and his hooves were as sharp as the rock shards he chipped from the cliff with every step.

"Get back!" I commanded of the others.

The brush was too thick to run, so the pups rushed underneath Omega's legs. Omega turned his body sideways and crouched over them, flattening them the best he could while curling his tail around to hide the spots where they stuck out from between his legs. I pushed up against them, teeth to the cliff, jaws low, and back high. There was a brief moment of silence before the dark shadow of the stag suddenly blocked out the view and landed a stride away from us. His shoulders would have passed my head if I stood at normal height. His unflinching pronged gaze showed no fatigue.

It did not even bother to glance down. I was a shadow its hooves easily stepped on every day. But the stag's true eyes turned to mine. Mighty Hena and Stantler knew one another as adversaries ever since the dawn of the hunt. The stag probably looked at us as evil creatures like the Hena did Bone Takers, for our appearance often meant death to his kind, but I did not share such sentiment. Stantler were essential for Mighty Hena survival. They gave us life and nurtured our bodies so that we could become strong, and when I looked in the stag's true eyes, I did not see fear.

I felt the heat of his exertion, the challenge of his skill against ours, and the taunt to try again. The stag was tired, but he was not going to give up. He was powerful, mightiest of his type, and filled with a Spirit of his own. It would not be shaken even when death chomped at his hooves. The Mighty Hena would continue to kill his kind, but now, we would have to fight harder to do so. I welcomed the challenge. Strong prey meant strong Mighty Hena. This loss was good for the pack because the stag would sire others like him and we would grow to match him because of our hungry bellies.

The stag tossed his glance behind me. He saw the pups and Omega under my shadow and knew me to be Mother. It was then that he knew he had escaped the hunt, for as Mother, I would not leave the pups to pursue him. I would defend them before I killed him, but that would not stop him from trying to kill me first. Nimble and quick, he could stomp all over me or sweep me away with a swipe of his wide antlers because as Mother, I would not expose the pups to such danger. A lone Mighty Hena was no challenge to a deer like him. But he was as wise as he was gifted. He saw my bluff for what it was and raced off into the woods. His white tail flared behind him as a final insult to our failure before he disappeared into the trees.

I chased after him a few steps, but quickly came to a stop. I would never catch him, yet my heart still pounded in my chest as if I had. The hunt fueled me. It made my skin tingle and tail stiff. I savored the feeling because, despite our rivalry, the stag had chosen to run as nature directed him too instead of killing out of spite. He understood balance and respected the Mighty Hena in this way. I was honored to have met such a creature.

"He will be Storm Runner," I said as Omega and the pups came up beside me, "For thunder comes from his hooves and he moves as lightning."

The pups looked up at me, curious at this exchange.

"It is a great honor to be named by the Mighty Hena," I explained, looking down at them. "Reserved for only the very special. Enemy or ally or prey."

It was then that Alpha howled, calling us to the kill they made of the lesser Stantler below. I turned to lead the pups down the cliff. They would be first to eat because this was their first meal so fresh from the hunt. They would experience the true tearing of flesh from bone. Alpha would keep the others at bay so that they could practice this. It would not do well to keep them waiting. But one of us had not moved. Omega stared into the woods a few paces away. One of the pups waited for him, but he waited in vain. Omega would not follow because as Omega, he would be last to eat.

Despite his progress, his place in the pack had not changed. He was last and did not need me to remind him. He knew the lesson of the deer because he already understood the power of names. The name he himself had yet to earn. I nudged the pup back to the others and followed behind them so that they would continue forward, but I stopped to glance over my shoulder at Omega. He remained facing the wood. Thinking and hoping and wanting.

One day, I would find that name for him. Then, he too would get the respect he deserved.