Sloan's Story part 17 - If You Can Sneak Up On a Deer, You Can Sneak Up On Anything
“This is stupid. Don’t we know anyone who can shoot a bow?”
“Shh!” Gilna waved frantic hands in a downward gesture.
Sloan dutifully shut up, but the question remained in her head. Here they were, sneaking through the trees to kill a deer with a dagger from close range instead of doing what sensible people did – shoot it from a distance. Fortunately, the deer did not appear to have heard the talking - it continued to munch on clover-laden grass.
Gilna stopped, so Sloan did as well, but then Gilna motioned forward. It took a moment for Sloan to understand that she was meant to finish the job herself. She frowned and made a half-hearted gesture of protest back, but it was meant more as jest than anything else. At Gilna’s second wave, Sloan turned and began her approach.
Her steps made no sound on the loam (another question: had all that “silent step” training really been to prepare her for this? Was Gilna looking to find new hunting partners? It had never made much sense that they would need to step so quietly around the Ladies) and they had spent a good chunk of time maneuvering to get downwind. All that was left was to sneak up behind a giant wild beast and slice its neck open without getting gored or trampled.
Easy.
As she stepped out of the trees and into the small clearing, the deer finally seemed to sense something was amiss. Its head snapped up and it snuffled the air. Sloan froze in place. She figured she had three steps to go, but she doubted her acceleration could match the beast’s. But then its head began to turn and she knew she was out of time. She braced herself then ran forward, one step, two steps, then a leap. The deer started and turned fully, flanks bunched to make its own jump.
Blind luck more than anything saved the hunt – the deer leaped forward directly into the path of Sloan’s dagger. Bright red splattered as the creature’s throat sliced itself along the blade’s keen edge. A half-second later, the deer was gone, leaving a crimson trail as it crashed through the trees. Sloan grunted as she belly-flopped onto the ground. The impact pushed the air from her lungs and the knife from her hand and she spent several seconds simply trying to breathe.
Much like her predecessor in this clearing, she didn’t hear anyone approach. Gilna was just there by the time Sloan had her breath back and was able to sit up.
“That was well done.” Gilna studied the trail of blood as she spoke. “It took me three tries to get my first deer. You got yours the first time.”
“Maybe.” Sloan looked around for the knife but didn’t see it. “I’m not sure how deep the cut was. It may have been only a surface wound.” She poked at the nearest bush.
“Not with this much blood. You cut it good. Now we just have to follow the trail. It might make it a few hours, but it will die.”
“Hours?” The knife didn’t appear to be under the bush. Sloan turned her attention to the tall grass that footed the forest. It couldn’t have gone far.
“Yes, they can last a long time. They’re big and have a lot of blood, so it takes a while for enough to empty for them to die.”
“Macabre.” A glint to her right turned out to be the last bit of dew on a blade of grass. Where could it be? She had already lost one of the Matron’s knives – she sure as Oblivion wasn’t going to lose another.
Gilna finally turned her attention away from the trail. “What are you doing?”
“I dropped the knife when I landed. It’s got to be around here somewhere.” Sloan flattened herself on the ground and peered under the bush.
“You mean this one?” The Khajiit held out Sloan’s knife and Sloan glanced over her shoulder and frowned.
“Yes. Where did you find it?”
Gilna laughed. “On the ground near your hand. You were busy trying to breathe. Are you ready to go?”
Sloan shoved herself off the ground, wiped her clothes with her hands (which only smeared more dirt and blood instead of cleaning anything off), and took the knife. “I suppose.”
Gilna turned and began following the trail of blood. After a few steps, she pointed at a small white-flowered plant. “Ooh, look! Hemlock! Very poisonous. Even touching it will give you a rash.”
Sloan frowned at the plant as she passed it. “It just looks like flowers to me.”
“Yes, that’s why I am letting you know. Someday you might see one and be tempted to pick it. Now you know better. You approached your deer from the back and had to lunge to get to the front of it. You were lucky you made it in time. If you’re ever in a similar situation again, consider going for the hamstring.”
Gilna pointed at her leg while Sloan’s mind reeled onto this new track.
“Right here. Cut that and your prey won’t be able to run. Then they’re easy to finish off and, as a bonus, you don’t need to walk for who knows how many miles first.”
“That makes sense. Why didn’t you tell me that before?”
A laugh. “I wanted to see if you would think of it yourself. See that mushroom? That is an imp stool. It is a key ingredient in many healing potions BUT accidentally add in, say, the ground up pod from a swamp fungus and you have made yourself a poison instead, one that will cause paralysis.”
Sloan laughed, though her mind was barely keeping pace with the every-changing topics. “I had no idea you were just an expert at plants. I’ll be sure not to mix those things!”
“Unless you want to! You never know when it would be useful to paralyze someone.” The Khajiit looked back and winked. “They don’t even need to ingest it. Just a little applied to a dagger blade, enough of a cut to cause bleeding.”
Sloan laughed again. “Why would I ever need that? I suppose it might be useful if someone is trying to slip out without paying.”
“Exactly!” Gilna laughed along. “You just never know. Oh, wow, that cut must have been deeper than we thought. I think I see your deer already. Have you ever skinned and dressed an animal?”
“I…um…no.”
“Great! More to learn!”
Sloan’s attempted laugh resolved to a sigh. “I don’t know if I can fit anymore in today.”
“I hope you can! We have so much more to do! Ooh, look! A butterfly! Did you know their wings can be used to…”
Sloan rubbed her face with her hands as Gilna went on about the uses of butterfly wings (which, when you thought of it, sounded just cruel. Why would you pull the wings off such a beautiful creature?) How had she ended up in this position? This was nothing like she had expected when Gilna had suggested taking a walk in the woods on their day off. Had she known her friend was such an outdoorsman…outdoorscat?...she would have just stayed at the Vixen.
Maybe. She had to admit there was something infectious about Gilna’s enthusiasm and certainly Sloan had learned a lot! Never mind that it seemed like stuff she would never need to know – she wasn’t planning on opening an apothecary (or a daggers-only hunting guild) anytime soon.
She sighed as they reached the deer’s carcass, its life blood pooled beneath the cut across its neck that was much deeper than she had expected. She knelt beside Gilna as her friend explained about tendons and muscles and the best places to strike for a quick kill (using Sloan and her own bodies to demonstrate, which seemed a little odd considering they didn’t look much like deer). Despite the seeming uselessness of it all, she paid close attention. Better to know things than not know them, even if there was no chance the knowledge would ever be used.
Edited by jfraser
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