A Taste of the Wild
#29 of The Life and Times of Jarzyl Mintaka (Slice of Life Stories)
Jarzyl goes on her first official training hunt.
Jarzyl moved forward in a low crouch, keeping her belly barely above the ground and holding her wings tightly furled against her back. "Sneak, sneak, sneak, sneak, sneak..." murmured the young dragon. Every movement she made was careful, calculated, and completely stealthy as befitted a predator on the prowl. "Where are you? I'll catch you. Sneak, sneak, sneak, sneak..."
"You would be sneakier if you didn't narrate it," said a voice close by.
Jarzyl halted and glanced to her side. She could just about make out the outline of another young dragon in the tall grass--her friend, Atlas, who was a close distance away from her. Unlike Jarzyl, he wasn't sneaking in the grass and was just walking upright and normally. "It's about the mentality! You have to _think_sneaky! We're sneaking up on prey, so we should be stealthy. Stay low!" Jarzyl told her friend.
Atlas didn't sound convinced. "You can't even see where you're going. We're about to walk into the perimeter fence."
Jarzyl sat up properly and raised her head to peek over the tall grass, looking around. She was just one dragon fledgling amongst many, spread out across the top of a wide, forested hill. There were many things for fledglings like her to do, but one of their activities was training hunts organized by the city's Education Division.
Training hunts were a means for young dragons to learn practical hunting and survival skills, as well as being teambuilding activities and providing physical exercise. Today, though, as this was the very first training hunt for Jarzyl and her various schoolmates, the hunt was less about any practical skills and more about just getting comfortable with being in the wilderness.
Now that she was actually sitting back on her haunches, Jarzyl could properly see over the grass and she realized that her friend was right. A trail of flattened grass showed the path of her prowling, and she had led them in a wandering, meandering manner until they were almost about to reach the fence.
For today's training hunt, the top of this forested hill had been encircled by tall but temporary metal fencing to create a hunting ground. Inside this big fenced-off area were dozens of young dragon fledglings, with several adult drakken acting as overseers, but most importantly there was also prey to be caught_._
Jarzyl frowned at the fence, then she glanced around and used her hunting instincts to pick a new direction at random. "Ok, let's look for prey... that way," she decided, pointing towards the right.
Atlas said nothing, but he followed along as Jarzyl dropped low and resumed her prowl. As she snuck along inside the hunting grounds, she still couldn't see much through the tall grass, but then a shadow fell across her. Scattered, swirled white clouds dotted across the blue afternoon sky, but looking upwards Jarzyl caught a glimpse of Avaeria. The City of Wings was gleaming grey that hovered high amongst the clouds, like a mountain that had torn itself out of the ground--the high capital of the drakken was moving ever so slowly through the sky, and it was now at just the right angle to block out the sun. The city's shadow slowly swept across the hunting ground, and Jarzyl blinked as her eyes adjusted, her pupils widening now that they were no longer in bright sunlight.
"Do you want to try flying around at low altitude? I'm sure it's easier to see prey from the air," Atlas casually suggested. He yawned lazily. "We're dragons. I don't know why we're even bothering to hunt from the ground."
Jarzyl flicked her wing dismissively at her friend. "It's about being familiar with the forest! You have to learn to be comfortable with the wilderness. Drak Tasilus explained it very clearly. You need to feel nature and understand how prey animals think so you can catch them." Pushing aside grass, Jarzyl used a paw to feel the dirt and soil. It felt like dirt. "It's special that our first training hunt is here. Do you know what this place is called? All these hills here?"
Atlas shrugged and adjusted the position of his wings against his back. "Um... these are the hills northeast of Grendium?"
Jarzyl threw both wings open. "Wrong! Eh. Ok, maybe it's true that we're northeast of the Grendium Forest, but still only half right. The name for this place is Redhills."
Atlas nodded. "Yes? That sounds vaguely familiar. I think that was on the map which Drak Tasilus showed us before we flew out from the city. So what?"
Still holding her wings open, Jarzyl spun, pushing down grass in a circle around herself. "But do you know why this place is called Redhills? I'll tell you! This was a place of battle and combat. And now we come to hunt prey for our first training hunt. Long, long ago, in the time before Avaeria, these hills here were the home realm of an ancient clan, with dragons building homes in the trees and digging caves under the hills. But then there was a rival clan that had long held a grudge against them, and on one fateful night they came and attacked the hills. They burned down the forest covering the hilltop here, and they slaughtered every dragon they could find, killing the fledglings and hatchlings too, and even smashing the eggs." Bending down again, Jarzyl grabbed some soil before letting it slip through her digits. "And from that day forth, this place became known as Redhills, in memory of all the blood spilt here."
A mix of emotions ran across Atlas's face, ranging from surprise to disgust to confusion. "That is... uh? Is that true? I don't think that's true."
Jarzyl perked up her neck frill and stuck her tongue out at her friend. "You don't believe me? I take history class and you don't. That means I'm more of an expert at history than you."
Atlas opened and closed his mouth a few times as he decided how to respond. It was true that Jarzyl was taking history class, while he was in music class. "I've read your history textbook, and it never mentions any such historical event. Are you just making this up?" Atlas glanced down, and he used a paw to scratch at the ground. "They... this place is just called Redhills because the soil is coloured red."
Jarzyl nodded happily. "Yes. The soil is red because of all the spilt blood from the attack and the slaughter, so many centuries or millennia ago."
"No, it's not," Atlas countered. "Do you have any idea how much blood it would take to turn every single hill here red? It's completely unrealistic. The ground here is just... it's red because it contains iron minerals." The young male fledgling used his tail to tap a nearby rock formation which was reddish-brown in colour and protruding out of the ground. "See? This is a boulder of iron ore. That's why the trees of the Grendium Forest grow so tall--there's iron in the soil which acts as natural fertilizer."
"Yes, there's iron in the ground, from spilt blood. The Grendium hypertrees grow tall, enriched by the bloodshed of innocent dragons slaughtered in an ancient age!" Jarzyl cheerfully insisted.
"You are definitely making this up," Atlas decided. He thought about it, then nodded. "Yeah, I don't believe you at all. There's no way that's what they teach you in history class."
Jarzyl laughed. "Hah. It wasn't from history class. It's a story I know. All the way from when I was a little hatchling, my grandfather always liked to tell me exciting stories about our clan's long and dramatic history."
"Your grandfather told you stories about interclan rivalries and war when you were a young child? No wonder you ended up so..." Atlas sat back on his haunches and just made a vague gesture with his forepaw towards Jarzyl.
"Imaginative?" Jarzyl suggested with a grin.
"That's one word for it." Atlas paused for a moment. "Wait, so in that story your grandfather told you about Redhills (which totally isn't true, but still) is your clan the one who gets slaughtered or the one which does all the killing?"
"Oh, obviously Mintaka is the--huuh! Shut up, shut up, shut up! There!" Cutting herself off with a gasp, Jarzyl pointed towards something in the forest a moderate distance away. She had finally spotted a target. A colourful, medium-sized bird was strolling across the forest floor--the fowl was black and orange, with a tinge of green in its feathers and a bright red comb atop its head. It was a chicken.
Because all the dragon fledglings were so inexperienced with hunting, wild prey would certainly be too much of a challenge for the young adolescent dragons. So instead for today's training hunt the hunting ground had been populated by fifteen chickens taken from one of the city's markets. Unlike their wild counterparts that natural lived in these forests, the birds were domesticated, fat, flightless, and quite ready for slaughter, but they were still proving surprisingly difficult targets. It had been already an hour since the training hunt had been declared begun, and despite dragon fledglings vastly outnumbering the chickens, only six out of the fifteen birds had been caught so far. Jarzyl had every intention of catching number seven. "There! There! Prey! Target acquired! Let's get it! I want to eat chicken for dinner tonight. Yum."
Atlas seemed unconvinced. He strolled over to the nearby boulder and clambered up onto the rock where it had a flat ledge. "Tell you what, Jarz. I'll just sit here and watch you."
Jarzyl growled softly, and she continued her advance through the grass. "Grrr...! Just watch and learn. I'm going to show that bird who's the boss. It's time to hunt. Hunting time!"
Sneaking up through the grass, Jarzyl approached the chicken until she was just barely a few body lengths away from her. The bird continued to peck at the leaf litter and the grass, and it was at this point when Jarzyl realized she had gotten too close--the point of a stealthy approach was to get as close as possible before her prey spotted her, but she had gone too far and the bird could surely see her. It just wasn't scared in the least of the dragon fledgling... which would be its fatal mistake!
"You're doing great!" called out another voice. "Go get it, Jarz!"
Jarzyl's neck frill drooped, and she paused her hunt to glance back. Atlas was still watching her, and now another one of her friends had turned up. Caden had climbed up onto the rock ledge to sit beside Atlas, and she waved encouragingly. Neither of them moved to provide any assistance besides moral support.
"Bah. Unhelpful, you two are!" Jarzyl muttered. "No problem. I'm a hunter. I can do this alone. Lone wolf style!"
"Buck, buck," the chicken clucked. It took a few steps away, and pecked at a different spot in the forest floor.
"Ryah!" Letting out her best attempt at a fearsome battle cry, Jarzyl lunged forward and tried to grab the chicken. With jaws open to bite and claws extended to scratch, she leapt at the chicken... which immediately sprinted off with a flutter of its wings. Not to be outdone, Jarzyl flapped her own wings and dashed after the bird.
Back at the boulder, her two friends watched as Jarzyl scampered away into the hunting ground, chasing after a chicken. Caden sprawled out on the flat rock surface, enjoying the residual heat from the sun-warmed boulder. Atlas was still sitting upright, watching the forest closely.
"Hmm. Care to estimate the odds that Jarzyl catches that bird?" Caden asked.
Atlas tilted his head as he thought about it. "Fifty percent," he decided after a moment. "Jarzyl's pretty fast, and she's determined. Plenty of people would have sensibly given up after their first pounce missed, but Jarzyl will probably just keep going until she runs that chicken down."
Caden nodded her head. "True! Very true. Jarzyl's stubborn enough to just keep chasing that dumb bird through the forest. So then why only half odds? Why not higher than fifty percent? It's just a farm chicken, not some wild animal with proper survival instincts. And Jarzyl's... Jarzyl."
"There's always a chance something goes unexpected," Atlas replied. "I'd say... fifty percent chance Jarzyl catches the chicken, twenty percent chance she chases it into another fledgling and someone else manages to catch it, twenty percent chance that the chicken escapes by tiring Jarz out, and ten percent chance that something else weird and unexpected happens."
Nothing much happened for the next minute. Atlas glanced around as a warm afternoon breeze swept through the forest, sending a few leaves drifting down from the treetops. "Hey, Caden?" he asked.
"Hmm?" Caden replied, without moving from her position sprawled out on the rock ledge.
"This region is called Redhills, right?"
"Yes?"
"Do you happen to know why it's called that?" Atlas asked.
Caden made an indifferent noise. "Meh. Cause the soil and rocks are all reddish, isn't it?"
Atlas nodded. "Yeah that's what I thought too."
The two friends continued watching the forest for a minute more, and then they saw motion coming from the forest again. Caden made a happy noise. "Ohh! What have we here? Jarzyl's coming back. Look."
"Is she chasing the chicken this way? Should we... should we try and help her catch it?" Atlas stood up and hopped off the rock, taking a few steps forward.
Caden remained lounging on the flat rock. "Eh. You can if you want. I'm just here to relax."
Atlas took a few more steps forward, but then he stopped. Strangely, he could see Jarzyl running through the forest towards them, but he couldn't see any sign of the chicken. Jarzyl obviously wasn't carrying it in her jaws, yet if she hadn't caught the bird, why would she be running this way? "Hmm. Caden?"
"Huh? Yeah?" Caden replied.
Atlas drew a deep breath and let it hiss out through his teeth. "Tss. This might be the ten percent chance that something weird and unexpected happens."
Jarzyl was sprinting through the forest, and she frantically waved her wings as she approached her friends. The young dragon fledgling was a streak of orange scales as she dashed through the forest, diving under branches and leaping over tree roots. "...eees! Atlas! Caden! Heeeeyy! Ruun!" Her voice sounded concerned, but Atlas couldn't quite make out the shouted words.
Caden sighed, and she jumped down from the rock ledge. "What? What now?"
"Run!" Jarzyl yelled.
"Run? Why? Haha. Don't tell me you got pecked by a chicken and that scared you off," Caden said with a chuckle.
Atlas was more concerned. "Jarz? What's the problem?!"
Jarzyl continued waving her wings as she broke out of the forest and sprinted towards her friends. "Bees! The problem is bees! Or hornets! Or wasps or something. Some sort of buzzing, angry insects that live in a hive, inside a hole, in a tree! That I may have accidentally disturbed! So run, unless you want it find out if all the angry buzzing is backed up by stings!"
Atlas didn't say anything, he simply turned tail and sprinted away, heading towards the open centre of the hunting ground where there were far more fledglings and adult drakken.
Jarzyl waved her wing as she sprinted past. "Run, Caden!"
"Why can't anything ever be straightforward?" Caden muttered with a sigh, and then she ran.
Jarzyl gestured with her forepaws and her wings. "And so the bad news is that I didn't get to catch anything! But the good news is that apparently I'm not allergic to bee stings." Turning sideways, the fledgling showed of a white, circular, adhesive bandage that was stuck over some of the scales on her flank. "It kind of itches, but the medic said not to scratch it. I'll be fine."
Her two parents both glanced at each other and exchanged a look that Jarzyl couldn't quite read.
Waving her wings for attention again, the young fledgling continued, "Also, Drak Tasilus said it's a _good_thing to see honeybees because they are hardworking and help flowers grow. So in a way, it's good luck to be stung by a bee because maybe some of that hardworking might pass on to me. Or at least that's what he told me. I think he was just making it up." Jarzyl paused and tilted her head as she thought of something else. "At least it was only a swarm of honeybees, not bloodbees. That would have been worse."
"What are... bloodbees?" her mother asked hesitantly.
"You haven't heard of them? We learned about them in science class. They're a type of bee that also gathers nectar and pollen from flowers, but they also augment that by sucking the sap from trees, or even biting animals and sucking their blood. In big swarms, they can suck all the blood right out of small animals!" Jarzyl grinned and gestured to her flank where she had a bandage attached. "Yuck. Can you imagine of instead of just stinging me, the bee had tried to take some of my blood? And then it would use that blood to make honey. Honey... made from me. How weird!"
Jarzyl's mother leaned towards her father and murmured something to him. Her father flicked his own neck frill. "Uh, no. Unfortunately that is a real thing, though they are quite rare. But bloodbees do exist, yes."
Shuddering all over, Jarzyl's mother stood up and strolled away, shaking her head. "Well, well! I'm never going to leave the city again. Bees that suck blood and make honey with it? I would have loved to have gone my whole life without knowing that was a thing. What an awful idea..."
Jarzyl's father tried to be more encouraging. "Jarzyl, I... It's good to hear you are healthy and well, and that you don't seem discouraged from attending future training hunts. I'm sure you'll do better and have more fun next time," he said to his daughter.
Jarzyl nodded her head happily, and she perked up her neck frill. "Yup. I'm not letting some bees scare me off. Next time I'm sure I can hunt something down. Now can you buy some fried chicken for dinner?"
END