"Mhmm... bide a moment. Look there, a few paces ahead. Fresh tracks, still damp. No normal beast leaves a print that deep—not in these woods, anyway. The grain of the earth is all churned up. I reckon there’s a primal beast lurkin’ near, waitin’ for the mash to turn."

And true enough, just a few steps before them, a large piece of print is engraved into the mud.

"Look’st. No’ a predator, I reckon. Hoof-mark, see? Like a deer, but abyss... the size o’ the thing. Print’s near as big as me head."

Kneeling beside the tracks, he studied them in great detail, taking in all the information he could get from the hole made in the earth.

"Watch yer step then. Beast that big don’t need teeth to end ye—just a heavy foot. Slow now. Keep t’ the shadows."

Mestin grunted in response, and with smooth and steady steps, they continued forward.

But it did not take long before they came into contact with the beast.

From the thickets, the two men continued to approach the unknown steadily when they heard running water, and, with no goal in mind, they made their way towards the stream.

As both came into view of the water, they froze: a massive beast stood there, its body bent to drink from the broad stream.

The beast had possibly heard them, for even before Keren and Mestin could do anything further, it lifted its head and stared at the two men with pure, bright, colorful eyes.

The beast showed no signs of attacking or even moving; it only continued to stare the two men in the eyes for a while.

Meanwhile, both Mestin and Keren stood with wide eyes and nervous at the beast. When it had raised its head, the two men could swear it was higher than three stories.

It had the body of the deer, but legs as large as pillars of stone, a gentle, smaller mane moving in the breeze around its neck.

However, what the two men took in more than anything was the eyes and the two great antlers protruding from its head. Black as obsidian and sharp as a blade, shaping like the roots of a tree.

The beast’s light brown and glistening hide shone ever so slightly when the sun broke through the canopy and onto the beast itself.

"Mhmm... bide steady. No sudden moves, Keren... don’t even try to do anythin’ stupid. A beast this size... we can’t win." Mestin whispered softly, and what he said, he truly believed.

’I can’t even move, the beast shows no hostility towards luckily,’ he grumbled inside. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t even move; the most he could do was warn Keren if he was able to move.

"Don’t need tellin’ twice. Why’d I even seek t’ hunt a regal thing like that? Reminds me o’ the Great Frost Elks back home... kings o’ the high crags, they were. Absolute kings." Keren nodded in agreement.

The silence continued to reign for a few seconds longer before, without paying any attention to the two small creatures below, the beast turned around slowly and walked away. Gracefully and steadily.

With the beast gone, the two men released a heavy breath, and tension disappeared from their bodies, tension they didn’t know had been there.

"The Lord needs word o’ this. Beast like that... no matter the strength, I’ve no heart for the hunt. Moves like the calves o’ the Frost Spirit Elk in the wastes. If that thing’s got a parent... then, aye, no thanks. Count me out. I’ll no’ be the one to draw steel on kin to the spirits."

Staring in amazement and wonder, Keren kept his eyes glued on the magnificent creature walking into the thick underbrush before disappearing beyond the trees.

"Frost Spirit Elk?" Mestin turned to Keren with a raised brow.

"Overlord o’ the Ice-woods. A Deep Blue primal... undisputed king o’ the waste, that one. No messin’ with a power like that. Rumors were it was but a few years from turnin’ Violet... abyss, just imagine. A soul-rank like that would’ve froze the world entire.

Keren shared with a shiver rippling through his body.

Mestin nodded with a thoughtful expression before the two started walking towards another section, almost in the opposite direction of the primal beast.

And so, for the most part of the day, the two men continued to trek through the woods when they once more came upon a small group of Light Red birds of some sort. Beaks strong as iron, hook-like talons as long as smaller scythes, and serrated steel-like wings.

The beasts were a mission to defeat. And both men would possibly have died if not for the increase in Mestin’s strength the day before. Even so, being avian creatures capable of swift movement even in the forest area, they had an uncanny ability to move between the trees like a fish swimming in water.

The beasts weren’t of a great size, only 3 feet tall with a wingspan of about 6. Both men had thought through the brush for around an hour before they were finally able to kill the last of the birds.

Sheathing his weapons on his back, Keren tried to clean some of the blood that had splattered across his face. With a slight wince as he rubbed his head clean, he took a moment to look down.

He did not have an easy fight; he was scarred in minor wounds. Nothing of serious consequence if treated properly, but that did not diminish the pain he felt.

He wandered off to where Mestin had taken a rest against a large trunk, and the man was covered in scars as well, even more than Keren was.

"Gruesome scene ye’ve made, aye. Not a bit o’ beak left. Head’s just... mashed. Bashed in right proper, that."

Not too far away, two corpses of birds lay as dead as dead could be. Blood everywhere and a few organs as well.