Barbaric Spouse, Descry the Night's Lure-Chapter 83: Scene LXXXIII

A beast that lived within the thickest fog, a Pennata. Relatives to those winged reptiles used to be called dragons yet terrenal, devoid of wings and with a bigger body than a yak. Similar in shape to a wolf that instead of fur possessed fuming scales covering its body.

Red eyes soon appeared, glowing the dread before Aslak, and licking the edges of his mouth his weapon was gripped, controlling the thrill to play with it as he raised from the dirt where he could see the claws coming his way.

*zhsss..groowh...* — The pennata emitted, sharing the thrill of the barbaric man at newfound blood to spill.

And Aslak replied, with a guttural growl giving start to a fatidic dance against beasts.

"GrrOooUooUooo... Come... Come pennata. Oooorrh." — Whispering in the middle, he smirked. Amused that he could see the gruesome creature preparing to attack.

’It’s a pity.’ — He thought, wide awake at the rush of adventure. — ’We can’t burst at each other for long, cursed fang.’

The jump of the beast was fast, and its loom was appreciated by the savage whose spiked axe came to pierce the birth of its front leg and unwilling to lose hold of the weapon, followed the scaled wolf in its fall to quickly take the axe back and slash through its eye and jaw before his body was strongly pushed aside by its claw to continue the encounter.

"!... K... Lost the eye, ha."

*Grahhhh...Zhaa!* — The creature roared its hiss. Showing the cursed fangs of heated temperature that wanted to rip the feral man’s throat.

Nonetheless, vision in the mist was its advantage, which had been lost thanks to its own blood.

It was the barbaric Archduke who attacked next, avoiding the enraged attack of the beast by sliding down the ground as it ran over causing the beast’s confusion. Letting it stand over him so with the vicious weapon he carried along his spare one, the chest of the beast and its large ribcage could end terribly wounded.

*crahhh–agghh zhhaa!!! *

Almost falling on top of him, the pennata stammered relentlessly, desireful to continue the deathly encounter that at its young age had met.

Nonetheless, the blood Aslak was stained with was entirely not his, and the creature’s tumble was enough of a chance for the accustomed man to pierce its skull with both spikes his axes flaunted.

A gruesome hiss and a lumping jerk of the scaled wolf followed as it slowly lost its life within the mist it wandered.

Watching the light flow of blood from the pierced head, Aslak paused to sense its complete demise and at the open snout of the beast, he took out the weapons from its tough skin. Cleanly yet accompanied by small scales, the axes allowed traces of dark blood to fall down its length reaching his grip as the savage Archduke witnessed the bleeding corpse.

Solely a moment he took to recompose his breathing and next, he shook the rope around him. Up. To signal the beast was dead.

Nonetheless... Three times more he did the same.

— A pack. Beware. —

Such was the message. For as well as furred wolfs, Pennatas did not move completely on their own.

’Where is the crater.’ — In the silence after death, he looked at that one peak he was guiding himself with and crouched to lay on the ground to look ahead from below the fog again if the place was near.

’.....Where... It shouldn’t be far...’

*...zzh... a... *

’Fuck. Where is it? We can’t lose any head here.’ — Aslak frowned, looking further, squinting his amber gaze attempting to help the difficult vision.

And then... his determined run commenced. For darkness in the ground only could be the place he seeks.

Fast, the mist was crossed until his feet found no ground. Letting him slide down a sufficiently deep hole from where his hands dismissed hold of the weapons to pull powerfully on his leash as soon as his feet collided with the crate’s ground. Signalling that the other savages should follow... In the unified rumble of their rushed feet.

Knowing the avalanche they would become as they fell, Aslak went further inside the hole of the crater in which he could see clearly how the mist his people were still in became his cloudy sky.

The rumble became stronger the more he attentively listened and soon many savages along the gentle horses slid down. However...

"ahh... Damn it... A pair of Pennatas also found us. Big ones. We lost a head." — Otrur, told Aslak after standing from the fall.

"... Only one at least."

"Some got wounds. It’s good you told us you found a beast first. The one we lost was because he didn’t take it seriously."

"Alright." — Looking at those many that arrived, few gasped with visible wounds that made them fall exhausted at the safe crater. — "As soon as the sky darkens we continue. They can tend the wounds now... Otrur Nolsvun."

"Hm?"

"The woods should be reached in one night, am I right?"

"Yes."

"... We will have to be careful. They have probably expanded and with these tremors the high men create..."

"... I will remind them."

"Do that. And tell them they can only lose the head when we reach the returnees."

Going off to a secluded space in the wide crater, Aslak warned the already aware warlock.

More creatures would roam inside the continent and the truth that many are to join the high men rising was the greatest concern and thrill for him and his fellow barbarians.

Death would be met at the place they crawled to. And differently to what the anticipation most saved, the Archduke’s anticipation, one that generally was greater than any other savage... was overshadowed by the wish to return home.

One moon had barely passed, nonetheless...

’I’m breathless.’ — He started, halting his steps to turn back to look at the tribe’s head about to join his keen. — "Otrur. If that eye is actually useful. Once on the dry woods tell if precious earth is near."

"... You’re really searching while on march?"

"I want to find one and gift it when I arrive."

"What shade does the female Myrkzver like?"

"..... I don’t know. I will choose..."

His steps resumed as uncertainty about a befitting gemstone for his mate emerged and falling to rest on the cold corner, Aslak watched the thickest of fog above his head, to close his lids intending to rest.

’A shade she would like... Her own is brown. Brown fur and eyes...’

— Merely come back. You have a wife that will wait patiently. —

"Fuuuhhh..."

— Be careful. —

A smile appeared after recalling the youthful sweet voice of his woman.

"How is it that I think... She might like it even if I bring back a pebble..." — The man mumbled, troubled by the birth of a wishful yet truthful belief.