The Adventures of Olund and Sidon

Chapter 1, Blood Brothers

The frigid night breeze gnawed hungrily on Olund's tail. His fur was thick but not thick enough. Winter was nearly here, and he would need as much warmth as possible. His younger brother's coat had grown much faster; he always had nicer fur. Sidon, Olund's younger brother, was standing still as stone on one of the heftier branches. They were waiting for prey. The two brothers despised hunting, but with no parents and no money, they did not have much of a choice. The brothers' bows were at the ready and their stomachs anticipated the kill.

A shift of the wind brought a new scent to the two cat's noses: deer. The two snow leopards moved silently to a higher branch where the deer would not catch sight of them. The small herd came into view. They were casually talking and exchanging banter, completely oblivious to the hunters.

"It's unfair," breathed Sidon as he notched an arrow. The two brothers gestured silently, picking out the weakest of the herd. They found him. An old deer standing separate from the others. The two arrows flew straight, both finding their mark on the deer's side. The herd frantically rushed out of the range of the two brother's bows, but the cats offered no pursuit. They had a kill to finish. The old deer hobbled away but eventually gave up. It had a punctured lung; it's raspy and erratic breathing was the telling and gruesome evidence of a clean shot.

"Alright! You got me, now what!" shouted the deer. "Just kill me already you fucking cowards!" "Sorry." Whispered Sidon as he grimmaced and turned his face away. "I'll try to make it quick, just stop squirming," said Olund. His claws, after countless, bloody repetitions, found the creature's throat with ease. The deer twitched and jerked for a few seconds before dying. Olund began the messy process of cutting the deer into movable pieces. The two cats were thin and weak from hunger, but they could not eat all the meat now. The two each took a hefty slice and ate in silence. The meat was delicious, but Sidon barely ate any of it. All he could think of were the deer's last words. Sidon would have given anything to eat plants like them, but he couldn't. His body craved meat.

After the meal, the two brothers started for the settlement of Blood Ridge. There, they could sell the meat and antlers for a few coins before returning to the forest to continue the hunt.

"Olund?" started Sidon. "Yes Sidon?" "Why did that deer call us cowards? It's not like we wanted to kill him. We just need to eat." Olund smiled at his younger brother. "You're right Sidon, but they can't understand that. They don't know what it's like having to kill to eat. They think we're nothing but blood thirsty monsters who get some sick pleasure out of killing people like him. He was wrong. Try not to think about him Sidon."

Sidon was disgusted at the whole thing. He knew nothing about hunting until he was nearly eight. His father had brought meat every night and Sidon never asked where it came from. It was only when his father brought Sidon along for his first hunting lessons that he realized the grizzly truth; they had been eating people every night for his whole life. He threw up when he heard.

After Sidon knew the truth, he left all his friends, predator and prey, to haunt the woods around their cabin alone. None of their parents had yet told them the truth, so they didn't understand Sidon's newfound awkwardness around prey. He was embarrassed to even look at them, knowing that last night's meal might have been some distant relative of theirs. One by one the children Sidon once played with were told the disturbing truth by a parent, relative or stranger, and they too separated themselves from the world to mourn their condition.

Blood Ridge was not too far away. Six hours of walking at most. The two brothers started out early the next morning and were there by early afternoon. It was a sizeable town of about two thousand people. Most of the permanent residence were wolves and foxes. The diversity came in with the trade caravans and merchants. There, you could find bears, cats and even a dragon or two. Today, a trade caravan from the arid south brought dozens of hyenas to Blood Ridge. They bartered and peddled their crafted goods (rugs, clay jars, weapons etc.) and bought up local resources; mostly hardwood and iron. But the one commodity the hyenas bought more than any was fresh meat. They could devour more than any creature the two brothers had ever seen. As such, it was always a given that the two could get the best price selling meat to the hyenas.

They fetched a fair price for the antlers but got an exceptional one on the meat. They got double what they would have gotten from any of the locals. Olund took their newfound wealth and stored it at their friend's house. He was an old and weathered wolverine. He had been the first person the brothers met when they came to Blood Ridge, and he had immediately taken the orphans into his protection. Though smaller in size than even young Sidon, the old man was a fierce fighter. The story of his deathmatch with a grizzly was a sort of legend around the town. No one messed with old man Garret, so no one messed with Olund or Sidon.

"Olund my boy," shouted Garret as the two approached, "how was the hunt?" "It was good Garret, an easy kill. Filled our stomachs and got a good bit of coin from the hyena traders." "If nothing else, those desert rats are good for your business." spat the old man.

The sun began to set on the settlement, and Garret was more than willing to house the two for the night. The three of them slept well until the earliest of morning hours when the sounds of violence reached the little house. Sidon jumped to his feet and rushed to peep through the window but was intercepted by old Garret.

"Get away from the windows boy!" he whispered hoarsely, "You don't want to see what they're doing and you especially don't want them to see you!" "Another hunger mob?" asked Olund "I'm afraid so. I wonder which poor souls the savages got tonight."

Sidon listened curiously to the sounds from outside. There was a beating of clubs on flesh and flesh on flesh. There was screaming and running and the sounds of ravenous consumption. All but one scream died out. The last remaining one wavered and shouted but it didn't stop the mob. There was a great ripping sound and the voice ceased its cry. The night was filled now with one sound: the sound of feasting. Olund took Sidon into the farthest room in the house and told him to sleep. Sidon couldn't close his eyes. He quivered, thinking about what had made the sounds he heard. There wouldn't be prey this far into town, would there?

In the morning, Olund and Garret walked to the spot of last nights carnage.

"Looks like a wolf family or what's left of it, a mother and two children." Said Garret, "And here, definitely lion fur." Added Olund. The two stood disgusted over the remains of the four people slaughtered in the night. Sidon peeked out the door and crept up to his older brother.

"What's this?" he said pointing to the blood and gore in the road. "Go back inside Sidon, now!" ordered Olund. "But you said that those were wolves and lions. Predators only eat prey, what eats predators?" he asked confused. "Other predators do boy." Said Garret. "There are some people that will eat anything that moves. They would eat you, me and your brother if they were given the chance. They travel the area around Blood Ridge and will eat whatever they want." Sidon had heard enough and went back inside. He didn't say another word all morning.

From that morning on, Sidon saw evidence everywhere. In the market place, he saw the predator pelts that he had previously assumed were just off-color goat or deer hides. He noticed that the necklaces adorned with claws and teeth were, in-fact, not wood but authentic. The once lively market was, now, filled with murderers selling trophies from their fatalities. His brother seemed immune to the horrors that filled the city. It made Sidon feel childish and cowardly, but he couldn't help it.

The one thing the two brothers never saw in Blood Ridge was another snow leopard. Other than their mother and father, they had never seen another of their kind. Olund felt lonely about it sometimes but Sidon enjoyed it. The merchants would make a point of stopping and saying hello because of it and it made him feel special. People were always telling little Sidon how lovely his coat looked. They knew there must be more like them in the world, their parents always said that they lived farther south then was normal, but they never felt the need to search the north for their own kind.