Fate Weaver's convergence

C72 Winter's story 2

"So they rub the bark to scare off competing bulls?"

I asked, running my gloved hand along the exposed core of the tree.

"Well, leading into Rut it's to clean the velvet off their antlers. If you ever see one that's partially red, that's from the blood."

Looking along the tree's heights, I couldn't see any red. It was only really exposed core.

"What's rut exactly?"

Reflexively I asked, only realizing a moment after what it meant.

Wait don't answer-

"Baby-making season."

Chessa said, deepening her voice in a joking manner.

"That's why it's easier to hunt the big boy right now. He's out there strutting his stuff to get the girls, which is of course is why he's scratching up the trees. He'll do that to a random tree he comes across in the hope a female sees it and follows him."

Chessa pulled a bow by its string from around her torso.

"He just won't be getting the females he planned on."

I eyed the bow Chessa carried. It looked too ornate for some simple hunting bow. It also looked too old and ornate to have been crafted by anyone in town, having random strappings of leather and what looked like some kind of string along its length. It was itching at me that a number of items Chessa held onto seemed to be fairly aged and used.

"What's with that bow Auntie Chessa? I never see you carrying anything else other than that and your shortsword."

Chessa perked up, looking back at me in surprise for a moment. Waiting for me to walk alongside her, she finally answered as we resumed walking.

"Well, you see... it's an heirloom. This bow was my great-grandfather's."

Chessa explained as we walked, maintaining a slightly detached tone. As if she were speaking to an acquaintance. Somehow, it felt refreshing. She was being honest rather than her normal reserved manners. Actually discussing it rather than dumbing it down. It's similar to when I talk to Callum in its own way.

"Around six hundred years ago, back before the Great Tree was razed he made this bow. He was part of a hunting lodge, in charge of collecting meat from all varieties of beasts. Elves back then weren't the kind to herd cattle, raise chickens or any of that. Most of our food was crops farmed along the tree's roots. All of the meat was gathered as needed with exception to the six months leading up to winter."

Chessa paused as she looked up, ensuring we were still following the tracks. Kneeling down, she checked something just under the surface of the snow.

"Droppings look like they're still warm."

Chessa pointed towards a small hole in the snow. Inside, fresh scat was seen, the snow melted under it nearly obscuring its detection.

"The guy is making your first hunting trip easy. Be sure to thank him, we might not have to make camp tonight thanks to that."

I clasped my hands together, praying in a joking manner.

"Oh Elk who's trying to get the girls, please don't make us camp out here."

My joke managed to pry a laugh from Chessa as she placed a hand on her knee. Chessa sighed after catching her breath, motioning for me to follow as she stood.

"Where was I?"

She asked, looking down at me.

"Meat was gathered near winter?"