The Hunter's Blessing

Trap Line

The sky was as dark as the heart of helheim, clouds filled the horizon like smoke from a fireplace, the air was bitter cold and still, the stars were scattered and few, the moon barely visible.

It was winter, the coldest and bleakest of days. Snow blanketed the Earth as though it protected the landscape from unseen assailants. The forest was quiet and unsettling, the only sound was that of my footsteps and the occasional howling of wolves far in the distance. 

With torchlight, I trudged through the newly fallen snow, breaking the already broken path along my trap line. The wolves had travelled this path recently, hope sunk as their tracks were a painful reminder that my game very well could have been taken by the thieves. Nature has a way of deceiving man, one moment you have immense bounty and your place at the top of the food chain is unquestionable, the next you could be starving and become the prey. 

I came upon my first trap, nothing...the bait taken, an audible sigh escaped my mouth the moisture adding to my already frozen beard. On to the next I thought, that one should have my quarry.

I walked for a number of minutes, the pack on my back creaked and groaned like the trees around me under the pressure of the bitter cold. The next trap was nestled amongst some spruce, the snow surrounding the area was disheveled and disturbed. The light of the torch cut through the darkness, the flames licking and biting the frigid air. There sat my quarry, contorted and frozen,  twisted and shaped by the cold and death. I stabbed the torch into the snow, it pierced the heavy crust and leaned gently in the fresh snow. The trap did not hold a wolverine, somehow a reindeer had managed to trap it's hind leg. The leg was broken, bone had pierced the hide and fur, frozen blood lined the area, sprigs of yellowed grass poked through the layers of snow. I stood there perplexed, as I surveyed the area and questioned why this animal found its fate in my trap. I grabbed the torch and waved it around the area, not a single track could be found, no wolves, wolverines, fox, marten anything, how did a reindeer find it's way into the trap and not leave a track?. 

The animal lay there, it's fur lightly dusted with fresh snow, I had to clean the beast and ready it for the hike back to the cabin. 

Linnea would be happy I thought as I took the pack off and grabbed the knife on my side. Knife in hand I knelt down above the reindeer and gave silent thanks to the gods before I began cleaning the animal.