CARJA

The water hears and understands
The ice does not forgive

Big antlers, quills, probably bigger than her. No, definitely bigger than her. They were big and shaggy and basically walking hamburgers.

Carja was watching the herd from behind a hill, her eyes big and her butt wiggling. Oh man, she couldn't wait to dig into one of them... Oh man oh MAN!!

"Feast time feast time," she breathed, tail wagging.

Finally she took to the air and roared, hoping to spook the herd and send them running so she could go for one and hopefully set it on fire. If she couldn't actually pick it up, then she'd just burn it to death. Crispy.

The burning saliva welled up in her throat and she launched it towards one of the cows, but not one with a baby, she wasn't cruel. Roast beef time roast beef time-

Hopefully someone came to help, though. As nice as it was to catch something by herself, these beasts were kind of big, even for her.

The herd of shaggy giants had been on the move before Carja came—as it were, they were ushering themselves from one part of the pasture to another, after eating the grasses and wildflowers down to their tender roots. There was a lot of roughage required to sustain those big brutes.

Their pace wasn't all that hurried, seeing as they were so large. (Pretty much no natural predators existed, aside from the occasional monster emerging from Tunnel G.) They were just ambling along, lowing softly among themselves. Most of the group was a blend of full-grown bucks and does, but at the center of the herd was five youngsters. All of them were headbutting and shoving one another in play, getting used to their gangly limbs and budding horns.

For a moment, they'd been pretty loosely organized. Along came the roar from above.

All fifteen heads snapped up to regard the dragon's silhouette, and a few bleated in warning. Hooves stomped a harsh rhythm into the earth, and they immediately coalesced into a circular pattern. One of the babies whined as it was squished between two rumps, but otherwise stayed still and silent.

A gob of very hot smacked harshly into one of the does, and she practically yowled in pain. Her legs kicked out, and she broke formation to bolt forward a few feet; like she could outrun the rapidly-forming burn on her flank. The others closed in tighter around the young, eyes hardly leaving Carja's form. One of the bucks bellowed, tossing his head in challenge.

The attacked doe imitated the gesture, antlers and central horn stabbing through the air. She reared up and delivered a thundering stomp: try it and find out!

@Carja

CARJA

The water hears and understands
The ice does not forgive

Carja snorted and shook her head. As if she was dumb enough to get in range of those things. No thanks, she was staying up here where she couldn't be gored by those terrifying horns. If she could burn that doe to death, then maybe she'd have a kill (and a bit of a pelt) to bring back to Attikias as a sort of trophy.

”Alright, let's go!”, she roared, grinning wildly.

She inhaled and spat another glob of boiling hot bile straight at the doe, swooping back up and keeping far away. She very much doubted that she could even take the doe away with her, for it was simply too heavy, but she could at least kill it and wait for the herd to reluctantly move on if they thought she was gone. Or just put up an ice wall between her and them before dragging the body away.

Yeah, that was a good plan.

The gob hit home, landing smack in the middle of her forehead. A shrill bellow rang out from the doe, wobbling while she thrashed her head—an attempt to get the superheated bile off. It smacked wetly on the ground, but the damage was already done: a good chunk of hair between her eyes was now charred black, and some of the bare skin was shiny with burns.

Aside from that, though, she was still fully capable of defending herself. The doe flicked her head up again, antlers slashing in threat.

Murmuring bleats wavered through the rest of the herd, hidden eyes trained carefully on Carja, still.

@Carja

Carja hummed and narrowed her eyes. Too thick furred for small burns. She'd only managed to anger it, it seemed. Well, at least she couldn't be caught in the air!

She inhaled and swung her head up, wings flapping as massive spikes of ice formed up from the ground, sharp and deadly, stabbing anything in their way. Unfortunately for the doe... she happened to be in the way. She'd be lucky if she received a quick death, at least.

The spikes pointed up and outwards, making it difficult to come at it from the sides, but if she was careful, Carja could perch on top and be safe from the herd. Perfect!

”Hee hoo,” she hummed, ”... How the heck am I going to get this thing out of here?”

Yeah maybe she didn't think this through-

The doe—poor thing—couldn't have predicted the next attack. Her gaze had been set on the skies, and not the ground beneath her feet. Water coalesced into points, growing rapidly. They punched through flesh and bone, forcing a wet bleat of pain out of her lungs. Hoisted up in the air and bleeding out, the mountain deer thrashed in place. The whites of her eyes flashed as they rolled in their sockets.

Her death was in spasming jerks and wheezes, but there wasn't silence.

No, one of the bulls—a hulking, shaggy fellow—broke out of the herd, stomping furiously. He huffed out his nose, flicked his head once, and charged for the very spike that Carja was perched upon. It was obvious that he would be unable to meet where it would hurt, but it was sure to be a bit of a terrifying sight.

The herd as a whole was bleating mournfully, now; their gaze flickered between their dead kin and her hunter, hooves shifting unsteadily.

@Carja

Carja's eyes widened and she gasped as the spike broke beneath her, scrambling to get upright or to fly away. Her wings flapped and she brought them down, a powerful gust of wind slamming into the ground as she surged upwards, gasping.

She circled and tried to calm her beating heart, tucking her claws up. She circled the carcass, wanting to dine upon her prey, and swooped down at the herd, staying carefully out of reach, trying to herd or scare them away. Then she could dine heartily and take the skin for her own and make her way back to Eridanus.

After a nap or two, she doubted she'd even be able to fly that far with a stomach fat with meadow deer meat. Mm... she was drooling just thinking about it. Maybe she'd even take a leg- or both!- for Attikais to cook.

Soon as the dragon was clear of the ice and circling above, the herd warily shuffled closer. Their lowing became more persistent—each note stretched for half a minute or more.

Any number of the males kept their sights on Carja, stomping and bellowing when she would swoop close.

What of the does? They broke formation, eyes flicking between their fallen sister and their hunter. Each of them took turns traversing the icy spikes to get closer to her, and snuffled against her shaggy, bloody flanks. When Carja would swoop down, whichever one was mourning would spook back into the group.

Eventually, the bucks bid their farewells, and urged the whole herd to move on and away from this threat.

It was... a somber moment.

... but, at least Carja had her carcass. It was, fortunately, gemless.

@Carja

Carja swooped down and landed atop a spike of ice once they'd gone, her wings tucked in. She stared after them, frowning, her claws digging into the spikes.

She, as a hunter, had never thought twice about her prey. She killed, ate, took the furs and bones for Attikias, and buried the rest with a soft 'thank you'. Never had she seen sorrow in her prey's eyes. Never had she felt guilty before.

She slowly climbed down and dragged the hulking beast off of the spikes she was impaled upon, setting her on the ground and staring at her blank eyes. She reached forward and closed them, unable to look any longer, doubt welling up in her mind.

”... You are giving me sustenance,” she said softly, ”You, o mighty beast, who fought so bravely for your family, who sacrificed yourself so that they may live.”

Carja forced tears back and set a clawed hand on the female's chest, ”May you pass on peacefully, and may you run once more wherever you go, with no hunters to threaten you.”

She reared and roared into the open air, a new appreciation for life, for those who gave theirs up for others to live. When the cry ended, she ate, filling her stomach with warm, hearty meat that made her jaws ache with the toughness of it, but she didn't dare leave this creature to rot after what she did. She would take its strength into herself and grow stronger and live.

She polished off most of the carcass before half-dragging, half-flying with it, her stomach fat and full, gristle making her lips and jaw shine, blood staining her claws and mouth. A new shine in her eye.

Exit Carja