It had been too long since Hunter had actively made his trade. He'd been spending days looking for Red, looking for her so-called friend, the mute she'd met in the woods, being waylaid and subverted by faeries, searching again for Red, and playing spy to actively hunt and retrieve skins to sell. He'd filled his last orders, and no one was waiting on him, but he was running low on supplies and lower on money to buy them with.


After a brief encounter outside Estervale, Hunter headed back towards Camlann, back towards the Sleeping Woods. There was only the faintest trail of Red's scent, one he couldn't follow well enough in human form. And worse, the scrap of red cloth he had barely held any trace of her scent at all anymore. It had faded, so slowly Hunter hadn't noticed until now, and it put him in a foul mood. Unfortunately, not quite foul enough to bring out the wolf.

He couldn't find her, and he couldn't waste time trying now, not when he needed to hunt. He needed skins, furs, and the usual wasn't going to cut it. He headed back into Camlann, noting still the odd behavior going on amongst the guardmembers there. They were still secretive, still nervous, still heavily armed in iron. Something was going on, and though Hunter wasn't sure what, he knew he had something to report to Goodfellow and his king.

And he did so, seeking out the green-skinned fairy, and made his report. Almost as an afterthought, by way of thanks, the fairy made flippant comment about sources of wilder, more exotic game in the jungles to the southwest. Lions, tigers, exotic bears, and species Hunter would have yet to have seen in Pentamerone. Exotic furs fetched higher prices, Hunter mused, and he could make up lost time and money quickly.

He headed southwest, bypassing Ozland, though he knew he needed to visit Pippi once more, when he could spare the time. And after he'd restocked his supplies, maybe then he could search for Red again, and attempt to use the potion he'd bargained for. But for now, he was headed to the Rajani Jungle.

It took some time to get there, but it was worth the walk. The jungles were lush, full of plants and flowers Hunter didn't recognize, and he spent a good deal of time inhaling and familiarizing himself with their scents. It took little time to start distinguishing them, smelling each at a distance and knowing it for what it was. It took less time to find suitable game. A large tiger, its black stripes standing out against orange skin. It had eaten recently, and was feeling lazy, making the hunt all the easier.

An hour later, it was skinned, its meat packed to dry, and Hunter was on the hunt again, moving more like wolf than man through the jungle.

Tags: scheherazade, hunter