Training seasons

Theodoric Martin · 12-16-2010, 02:16 AM

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Theodoric was hunting today.

Generally, when he and the eagle owl went out together, the agenda was more pleasure than business. Since traveling to the new world, Theodoric had developed a fondness for long walks that gave him a chance to stretch his rather lanky legs. On those trips, Wynne would generally fly off on her own to hunt for the mice and voles that were the staple of her diet. Theodoric would follow at a comfortable distance, a cloak thrown over his shoulders to keep out the chill. Sometimes if they got lucky the owl would attack an animal bigger than she could kill by herself and Theo would finish it with a small, sharp knife that he always kept tucked in his belt loop. He never planned on meals from such encounters, because they happened rarely, say one day in ten.

Today, the pair meant business. A particularly unlucky streak meant Theodoric hadn’t had fresh meat in a while, and he was uneasy about dipping into the winter’s stores so soon. So he did his best to communicate what he had in mind with Wynne. The owl was surprisingly intelligent and understood the high speeches well, even though she spoke them poorly. An owl’s voice lacked the versatility of a corvid, say a magpie or raven. She was teaching him the low speech, though slowly, given his lack of talent with tongues. Between the two of them, the owl and the wolf managed to settle on a prey item and a strategy, and set out while the day was still young.

Theodoric had not donned a cloak for the excursion and rather wished he had. But they were way out in the boondocks now, far from the AniWaya border and there was no point in going back. Wynne had found a flock of turkeys and Theo had been tracking them for most of the morning. They were almost there, Theo thought, and struggled against anticipating the night’s menu. He and the owl were resting before the final stretch; he leaned against a sturdy elm tree; she rested on a leather gauntlet strapped to his wrist.

A crunching of leaf litter startled Wynne out of some private avian reverie, and she flew up to a nearby branch rather more noisily than was flattering for a member of her species. Theodoric, flustered because she was nervous, cast about for the source of the bird’s disturbance. Although it was difficult to see through the forest branches, the grayscale luperci caught a flash of white against the otherwise monotone landscape. He headed in that direction, calm now but curious, and the owl followed slowly behind, branching from one tree limb to the next.

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