I will never forget my first hunt with my tribe. It was something of legend that I can promise you. I was taken to the deepest ends of the nearby forest, where it was believed a coven of vampires called home. We had been instructed to capture and kill if need be, four of our enemies. Our alpha wanted another pet to torment and study. The smell of the creatures was a pungent and stomach turning one. When in groups it was said that the scent of festering corpses could be smelled for miles around. With my newly equipped senses, the smell was maximized.
We traveled in a pack of four, at the time I thought it foolish. I had seen the powers of the Vean'ta by then, and there we were strolling into their coven outnumbered by I didn't know how many creatures. We made our way inside, the musk hit me in the face and battered my sense of smell with a tree trunk. It was in the early morning, the sun was out, and we knew if things got too dangerous we could just flee into its rays. Despite my suggestion, we carried no weapons only chains and a medium sized crate that was covered in a sinful black fabric. That day was the first time I was to best tested by my skill and fast thinking. I had been warned that a bite from the creatures could mean an infection, one that could kill a Lycan if not treated with haste. That fact alone made me weary of the hunt, even still, I forced myself into action.
The dwelling had been built into the side of a mountain. The insides were wet and extremely hot in comparison to the natural climate. The others told me that it was similar to the heat of hell, and was necessary to keep the vampire's alive in our world. Thick mucus like fluid covered the ground and walls, I was later told that it was the excrement of the creatures. For a few long minutes upon finding that out, I missed shoes. We made our way deeper into the covert like den, after what seemed like forever we found them. They hung from the ceilings upside down sleeping, rejuvenating. Just like the one I had watched succumb to the sun, they had coal wrinkled flesh and bat like wings. I couldn't make up my mind what was worse, their look or their stench.
We split off into two groups, Venamori to the left and the Venora to the right. My task was to run down one Vean'ta and hold it to the best of my ability until a Venamori came to my aid to imprison the beast. I will admit, I felt like pissing my pants if I had been allowed to wear them anyway. It was custom for our kind to wear trousers but when embarking on your first hunt, you were expected to excel in your nudity. It was believed that you would better learn to understand your abilities if your first hunt was successful in no clothing at all.
We silently stalked around them, looking for the leader of their particular coven. There was always a female, and the others more often than not were males. The mistress, as they were known, had certain physical differences that the males apart from the difference in sexual organs. They were larger and had a red tint to their wings, some even had markings that had been carved into their backs by the demon who had created them. It was a mark of ownership you could say. We search the countless bodies time and time again until finally, we found her.
The creature's hide was rare, she held gray skin and red wings. Meaning she was cast in shadow, rather than born from the flesh of a human. I pointed her out to my hunting partner, and he whispered to me that my first hunt would not be an easy one. Her kind were known as Penumbra Voyagers, and they were the most vicious and skilled fighters of their kind. They held the ability to travel within shadow even when the sun was held high in the sky. As long as there was shade to step on, they could survive. They also held a venom that could kill a Venamori or Venora in a matter of hours. The first rule my partner gave me, was to stay away from its jaws. If I did that, I would survive and begin my climb up the ladder of ranking Venora.
I threw my chains over my shoulder and started to climb up the softened rock walls. My claws slid into the formation like steel into flesh. I prayed that I would not fall and cause the other's to wake. It was up to me to make the first move, and so I did. To my surprise, the power of my legs threw me right in her direction with ease. I sank my claws into her back and began to wrap the chains around her head. Blood poured onto the ground below, she awakened, screaming in pain. Her wings came to spread into a marvelous show of color. Her cries for help alerted the others, and they fell free from their grasp to the vines above head. They flew into a frenzy each beginning their attacks on me. I wrestled the female down to the ground and held her there with my feet. I remember my arms flailing about in attempts to keep the others away from me, as my hunting partner began their bloodbath. I watched as they murdered them with ease. It seemed this was what they lived for and I was just along for the ride.
The mistress continued her wailing beneath me. Her nails dug into my calves, the lacerations felt like fire, and I knew I had to be infected somehow. The larger of the two Venamori came to my aid after hearing my roar of pain. He saw the crate opened and assisted me in pressing the demon into it. We began to make our way out of the coven the hoard of blood thirsters at our back. Bite after bite, scratch after scratch they attacked, hoping somehow they could free their leader. We saw the crate covered with the fabric and ran as fast as our bodies would carry us. Into the sun we went, and as idiotic as it was they followed. Their bodies burned like parchment in a fireplace, I could hear it happening, but I didn't dare look back. The fur on my legs was damp with blood that was my only concern at the time.
The travel back to camp was a long and tedious one. I felt annoyed by the congratulations the others gave me. The pats on the back, the howling and screaming in triumph made me feel as if they had no care at all for my injuries. When we arrived back, we were met by the tribe's everyone gave us respect, especially me, the weak newborn Venora. They threw necklaces of bone and flowers onto my neck and praised me for my courage in my first hunt. I could tell though, many were shocked I even made it back alive. Since I had though, I was now truly one of the pack and any of them would give their life for mine. In return I was expected to do the same, back then, I was not ready for such a thing. Looking back from where I stand now, I curse myself for my hesitance. The tribes of Varon'tae was the first real family I ever had, without them my blessing or curse would have seen me to my grave.
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