Who's Cackling Now?
A piece written as part of something me and a friend did while I was visiting him in Germany. We took the same prompt and decided to write a short around it. Needless to say, he came in under the 500 word limit, while I doubled it.
Story features my characters: Sakara and Kuveli, and my friend ConorHyena's: Conor.
Who's Cackling Now?
By Owen A. Fox
It was mid-spring, a stream trickled through a deep, muddy trench left by the season's meltwaters. Two figures stood either side of the stream, the sun setting besides them. Each held a wooden spear which was little more than a sharpened stick.
The hyena-man stared at his tiny opponent with an emotionless glare. His back was hunched and his knees were bent, the spear clutched tight to his face. His dirty animal skin trousers were fastened tight with a length of rawhide. Around him the trees rustled, he shivered as a gust of wind pierced his short, coarse fur with ease. The countless scars on his back were not unlike the ugly, deep trenches carved through the mud.
Across the stream stood a fox-boy dressed in a ragged rawhide loincloth. He couldn't have been any taller than the hyena's chest, and yet he wore a cocky grin. The wind failed to break him, his malting winter coat shedding like an orange-brown dandelion in the breeze. He stood with his legs splayed and back straight, spear planted firmly on the ground. His free paw twitching with anticipation.
Seconds stretched into what felt like minutes. The rustling pine trees and cawing of carrion birds melted into white noise. They could only hear the tense thump of their own hearts, and the coursing of blood through their veins.
Suddenly the fox bore his fangs, wrenching his spear out of the dirt and up, over his shoulder. He leapt forward and, with all the might his little arm could summon, hurled the spear at the hyena. The flimsy wooden spear wobbled as it left his paw, but it was a skilled throw and its course remained true, cutting through the air like a charging reindeer. It closed the distance between them before the fox could even draw another breath.
The hyena flashed a smirk. He threw his arm in front of his face, the wooden spear splintering upon his bone wristguard. It bounced back, tumbling into the ditch and coming to rest in the stream. The fox's maw hung open as he took several steps back, both paws clenched in front of his chest.
The hyena lunged forward, his bare paws thumping against the tall grass. With three times the force of the little fox's strongest throw, the hyena pushed off his back paw and soared into the air. He cleared the ditch by double its length and landed with a soft, graceful thud, one knee in the dirt. Immediately he bolted forward, maintaining his terrifying momentum.
The fox's nerve broke, he closed his eyes and threw his arms over his face. Instinctively and without thought, his body threw itself out of the way of this unstoppable force. As he did, he felt the air being pushed aside by the hyena's spear, it barely missed taking-off his ear. In a panic he turned to look at the spear, his mind racing.
Then, an idea!
There was no time to second-guess it, else the fox risked another fatal blow. He grabbed the spear and pulled himself onto his footpaws. The hyena stumbled, caught off-guard. The hyena had been holding the spear awkwardly, by the base instead of the neck. He was completely off-balance.
With the hyena stumbling forward, the fox thrust the spear back with all his strencth. The spear slipped from the hyena's grip and thrust straight into his ribs with a loud thwack. The hyena grunted, baring his teeth as he stumbled backwards, towards the ditch. Before he realised, the hyena's footpaw dropped out from under him, with a yelp he tumbled backwards into the ditch.
There was a splash as the hyena landed flat on his back, followed by a long, pained groan. The fox ran over to the edge of the ditch and peered down. The hyena lay curled up, everything below his neck submerged in the stream. His eyes were closed and teeth still bared in pain.
The fox smirked, he knew from the start this fight was his. He crouched down and slid over the ledge, climbing down into the muddy ditch. There was a squelch as his paws sunk into the water-logged soil and clay. He could feel it seeping into his fur and under his claws.
He approached the hyena, crouching down and watching the sorry excuse for a warrior. He chuckled and placed a paw on his shoulder.
"You went easy Conor, I though we-"
Suddenly the hyena lurched forward. His paws emerging from the stream clutching the fox's spear. The hyena thrust it forward as hard as he could, the spear coming into contact with the fox's shoulder, and its blunted tip glancing off. The fox was knocked-over with a yelp.
"I thought we weren't going to hit each other that hard!" He cried, writhing around in the mud as his bruised shoulder pulsed with an unbearable pain.
"Never show your enemy mercy, Kuveli." The hyena stated, pulling himself out of the stream and shaking his fur dry.
"Big brother says otherwise. Anyway, I should have won that!" Kuveli claimed, lifting himself out of the mud and poking his tongue out.
"It's training, little fox, it's not about who wins, it's about learning something." The hyena reached over and put petted the fox on the head, cold water dripping onto him.
"I learnt that you're useless with a spear." Kuveli chuckled, his glare softening into a smirk. The hyena returned a courteous smile, breaking his stoney facade.
"If I'd have had my axe, I would have torn you to pieces." Conor flashed his fangs, but Kuveli just narrowed his gaze, skeptical.
"Nah, you'd feel bad about doing that." He retorted. Conor shrugged and lifted himself onto his footpaws, extending a paw toward Kuveli.
"C'mon, let's get you tidied-up before your brother gets back. Same time tomorrow?"
"Who's Cackling Now?" - Owen A. Fox, 04/01/20
966 words