The forest at the foot of the mountain was still.
No roaring wind. No shrieking monsters. Just the creak of old branches and the soft thrum of insects stirring in the grass.
Matthew moved silently through the underbrush, his breathing even, his body low. The sun was still high, its golden light streaming through the sparse canopy. The air here was lighter—free from the heavy tension that hung over the mountain. But it wasn't safe. Not entirely.
He knelt beside a set of prints in the mud. Cloven. Deep. Fresh.
"Bingo," he muttered.
A few meters ahead, past a broken thicket, the creature came into view.
It stood between the trees a strange, ethereal beast.
Deer-like, but not quite.
Its body was tall and lithe, built for speed and grace. A long neck arched gently, covered in pale fur with a shimmering green sheen, like moonlight reflecting on leaves. Its antlers branched wide like twisted roots, and its eyes too large, too aware glowed faintly gold.
A Thornhart.
Rare. Skittish. And dangerous when cornered.
Matthew steadied his breath.
One wrong move, and it'd vanish into the woods or worse, charge.
He circled wide, careful not to step on brittle twigs, not to rustle any leaves. The Thornhart's ears flicked once. Twice. But it didn't run.
Not yet.
Matthew reached for his throwing blades.
He wouldn't kill it outright. No. That would be messy. He needed to cripple it. Bring it down quickly. A clean shot to the tendon behind the foreleg, just above the hoof.
He narrowed his eyes.
Threw.
The blade whistled through the air then thunked into bark just inches from the creature's leg.
"Shit."
Thornhart snapped its head toward him eyes wide, nostrils flaring.
Then it bolted.
"Damn it—!"
Matthew sprang after it, boots pounding against the mossy ground. He dashed through brush and roots, ducking under low branches, chasing flashes of that gleaming hide.
"Come on, come on, slow down, Bambi-from-hell!"
He threw another blade—missed again.
The Thornhart veered right and that's when Matthew saw it.
A natural dip in the terrain. Rocks. Loose soil.
He didn't stop to think.
He dove.
Sliding down the slope, he pulled a larger blade from his back; it was Leo's since his sword broke from the Greater Beast they fought
Hurled it with everything he had. He used the second scorching sword style.
The steel spun like a streak of silver and struck true sinking into the creature's flank.
The Thornhart stumbled, its leg giving out.
Matthew skidded to a halt, panting hard. The creature was still breathing, struggling to stand. Its eyes locked with his full of pain and wild defiance.
"I know," he muttered, stepping closer, "I didn't want to do this either."
With a swift motion, he slit its throat—quick, clean, merciful.
The body slumped.
Silence returned to the forest.
Matthew stood there for a moment, panting, staring down at the fallen beast. His heart still raced. His hands were slick with blood.
He wiped the blade on his sleeve.
"Sorry, buddy. But my friends need to eat."
-Later that Afternoon-
Smoke curled lazily into the sky.
Leo sat against a boulder, his side bandaged but stiff. El leaned beside the fire, arms crossed, grimacing as she adjusted her ribs beneath the wrappings.
Then the bushes rustled.
"El, knife," Leo whispered.
"Already on it."
But instead of a threat, Matthew emerged.
Blood streaked down his arm. His shirt was torn at the shoulder. A deep scratch ran across his cheek but he was grinning.
Over his shoulder was the carcass of the Thornhart, wrapped in vines and slung like a trophy.
"Lunch…and Dinner" he said proudly, dropping it near the fire with a thud.
Leo blinked. "Is that a Thornhart?"
El raised a brow. "Thought they were near impossible to hunt."
Matthew flopped down next to them, wiping sweat from his brow.
"Impossible's a strong word. Let's just say it didn't die quietly."
Leo snorted. "You're bleeding."
"Yeah, well, it had friends. They didn't like me sticking knives in their cousin."
El smirked. "You're an idiot."
"An idiot with venison," he said, pointing at the carcass.
Leo chuckled. "You win this one."
Matthew leaned back on his pack, eyes drifting toward the fading sky.
The forest whispered around them again peaceful, just for now.