Crimson is Our Favorite Color

The Summoning (4)

This is the final part of the first story. It takes place two and a bit weeks later. 

The bear's meat had lasted a surprisingly long time, considering it had to feed him, and an enormous wild cat, almost the same size as the bear. But it had held up well, until now at least. Gransfen knew that he had to start finding other sources of food. But despite being out in the forest, he had grown. He had become taller and more muscular. Just like his wild cat.

Wilco had been an incredible company. Empathetic when he was lonely, fierce when he needed protection, and he had spent the last two weeks training with her, and their bond already felt strong. She hadn't yet gone into a passive state, but on the other hand, did he really want her to? She was the singular reason for his survival, she seemed to generate a heat that kept the space around them warm, she had used her teeth and claws to protect him on countless occasions, and she had been the one to find the cave behind the waterfall that provided excellent shelter during storms. And when she raked her claws across the stone walls they left deep gashes, seemingly without hurting her own claws, and when she did this sparks would fly in every direction, very helpful when no matches, or flint and steel were available.

He knew that soon he would be ready, ready to face the Crimson Raiders.

He started the hunt, just like he and Wilco had been practicing. She was fully capable of finding meals for them but he liked to do it with her and she seemed to enjoy having him around. During the past few weeks he had gained access to only a bit of Wilco's powers, but even so it was an extraordinary feeling to glide seamlessly through the forest.

He closed in on his prey, and pounced. With no warning, this rabbit didn't stand a chance, it tried to run but he was too quick and easily killed it. He yowled in triumph, this was his first solo kill. Wilco then emerged from the trees looking so proud that Gransfen was surprised that she was empty handed. Then he understood that she was proud of him. His heart warmed at the thought. He knew that now was the time to face the Crimson Raiders.

That night with a belly full of rabbit, he curled up next to Wilco, and drifted off, all thoughts of his family. Tomorrow he was going to see their faces once more, and he become the hero of his town.

The next day they started their trek, it was slow on foot and even with Wilco's aid in enhancing his senses and speed it was taking far too long. Apparently his wildcat had come to the same conclusion, because she knelt down, in what, Gransfen first assumed to be a pouncing position, but when she kept looking back with an expectant position on her face, he realized, with a start, that he was supposed to climb on her back. She was easily big enough to hold a grown man so that was not what worried him, he was wary of riding a beast so dignified, and powerful. She shot him a look that clearly said, "Is someone too scared?". Then followed by an annoyed glance back at him. He decided that maybe it was for the best, and he carefully climbed on.

Her moves were fluid, and fast, he couldn't go this quick if he was full out sprinting, yet she appeared to be doing it effortlessly. After no time at all they arrived at the spot where Dion, the leader of the Crimson Raiders, had unceremoniously dumped him. But they were soon past it, and leaping forward.

Then the forest abruptly ended and they were flooded with light. Gransfen blinked to clear his eyes. He was home, but he still had some loose ends to tie up.

Gransfen marched to the center of town where he knew Dion set up camp. Heads turned to stare. He could tell that Wilco was enjoying the attention.

Dion looked up and his mouth fell open. Gransfen knew of fights, and he was ready to do whatever it took to rid Eura of these raiders, no longer was he unprepared, no longer was he only ready, he was eager. As the Crimson raiders drew their weapons Wilco snarled. A sound so terrifying that a few of the men shook. He could feel Wilco's strength,and power coursing through him in a way that he had never experienced before. They didn't stand a chance.

The crimson raiders were not called the crimson raiders because of their clothing, as they dressed in the same attire as many of the villagers. They were called the Crimson Raiders because crimson is the color of blood, and that was what they spread everywhere they went.

"Lucky for you," Gransfen thought, "crimson is our favorite color"

Wilco roared. 

Let me know what you think of it. The second story in this adventure coming soon.