Ellis sat with his back against the rock wall, his hands covered in blood as the roar of the waterfall drowned out his screams. He tore at his hair in frustration, pounding his bloody hands against the cliff face while his feet kicked like a dying man’s.

  The animal had stumbled once, twice, before falling like a stone to the floor after the arrow hit it. Ellis had almost skipped past the pond towards the dying animal, imagining all the things he would say to Derek when he got the deer back to the village.

  After squatting down and getting his arms underneath the animal's side once it went still, he lifted the animal onto his shoulder with all the strength he could muster, the blood flowing over his shirt and hands as he did so. Ellis heaved with every step as he walked back toward the treeline, his legs screaming from the pain before they just gave out under him. He stumbled forward, dropping the deer to the floor once more. He had made it eleven steps.

  He put his hands on his knees to pant while he thought of a solution. In his haste to leave the village he had left behind a hunter’s most useful tool: a knife. But he still had a quiver full of arrows, and they had sharp tips, so they would have to do. He broke the arrow he had used to kill the buck in half and started cutting away at the deer’s belly with its point.

  It was rotten work, the smell seeping into his nose and making him gag with every wretched cut, but Ellis did not stop until he had disemboweled the animal. Sticking his hand into the wound he had created, he pulled all the organs out. Leaving the heart and liver pained him… but it would lighten the load, so it would have to stay here for the rest of the animal to make it back to his village.

  He had gutted hundreds of animals, so he was done before he knew it. Once again, he lifted the deer back on his shoulders with a grunt of effort and walked forward. He made it twenty steps.

  Every attempt was worse than the last, covering Ellis in blood head to toe. The reward for his effort was moving the animal from the waterfall back to the treeline, covering a distance of only forty meters as his lungs burned and his legs protested.

  Ellis sat down on a treestump and tried to think of a solution. He was greeted by a nagging, petulant man child’s voice echoing in the back of his head.

  Can. You. Carry. The. Animal. Back?

  The longer he sat there the louder that question got, until it was the only thought in Elis’s head. He tried resting, then screaming, pinching the skin on his arms till they bled to drown out that question and the conclusion it led too.

  His dreams were as dead as the animal that lay before him.

  He tried to cry, but no tears would fall. The gods wouldn’t even allow him that small mercy. They had given him everything he needed to be a hunter, except for making a single number one digit higher.

  With a sigh, he got up and started walking through the trees, before looking toward the sky. He couldn’t go back empty handed, he couldn’t take the animal with him… what was he supposed to do!? Lay here and die?

  He ran back to the animal and kicked it, shouting at the deer like all of this was its fault. He thought about killing a smaller animal, but knew that would not be enough to sway the rest of the villagers.

  Facing the waterfall, he contemplated his next move while ignoring the stink of rot already rising up from the blood in his clothes. With a snarl, he grabbed the bull by its long horns and dragged with all his might.

  The animal moved a half meter. Ellis' arms only complained a little, his breathing was alright, so he gave the animal another tug and it moved another half meter. Having found his solution, Ellis dragged the animal through the forest.

  His arms were on fire and his legs were screaming at him to stop while his breath came in ragged bursts, the trees now thick around him. He pulled again, but this time the animal would not budge a single inch. With a roar he wrenched at the animal's antlers, but only a ripping sound filled the air. Ellis checked the animal over and saw a small root sticking out of the ground and into the deer's open belly, keeping it stuck in place.

  He dropped the buck and fell on his back, even his high endurance unable to help him catch his breath.

  He glanced back at the root, then looked to the sky. “Evosa! Why!? I’m trying to change their stupid decision! Why stop me!?”

  With a growl he sat up and tried to stand. But his limbs were spent. He had given it everything he had and he was still in view of the waterfall.

  The lack of birdsong was the catalyst needed for the tears to fall. Ellis fell against the animal and wept like a child. He laid there for a long time, the tears coming in waves. It took ten minutes for the tears to stop, the quiet of the forest almost consoling him in his moment of grief.

  With all the effort he could muster, Ellis rose to his feet once again, staring down at the dead animal that had cradled him… and realized how pathetic he was. He had achieved what he had always wanted, and now a little thing like the animal’s weight stood in the way? Ellis had told his entire village to shove it, this was nothing. If it took him days to get the animal home, it would still be home.

  Ellis’s thoughts were broken with the rustle of leaves and a branch snapping overhead. He dropped to a crouch in an instant.

  “Please, please, please no,” he thought to himself, scanning the trees surrounding him with a newfound sense of dread.

  A single leaf fell before Ellis’s eyes, floating gently back and forth in the air like it hadn’t a care in the world. Ellis jumped backward, tripping over the dead deer as a Rass crashed into the spot he was just standing.

  Ellis rolled out of his trip, unslinging his bow in one smooth moment. For a split second, his eyes locked with the two, round, almost black eyes sunk into the Rass’s head. It had a beak, short and stout with a razor sharp tip, which reminded Ellis of Michael’s sword as the Rass pointed it at him.

  It made a sharp noise, squawking like a chicken with a sore throat. It made every hair on the back of Ellis’s neck stand on end as it reached forward with two huge front legs tipped with sharp claws. Both legs were thicker than Ellis’s chest and were covered in disgusting red hair, and it used the claws to grasp the carcass, its other four thin legs not moving an inch as it dragged the deer backward.

  He couldn’t let his deer be taken. It was his. He had killed it. “Go away!” he shouted, taking out an arrow and standing tall five meters away from the predator. He lunged forward with a scream, attempting to scare the Rass away.

  His scream turned to a yelp as his foot caught on a branch, making him fall to his knees as a second Rass flew through the space he had just been, tearing through the trees out of Ellis’s sight.

  The first, red Rass charged forward as Ellis stumbled, its black eyes filled with hate. He dived out of the way of the Rass’s charge, its giant front leg missing his foot by an inch.

  Ellis flattened his back to a tree so there were no more surprises as he once again faced the deer carcass. The second Rass had decided its mate would take care of Ellis, and was now gorging itself on the blood of the dead deer. Its long beak punctured straight into the carcasses neck, filling the air with a loud slurping sound.

  It was slightly smaller than the first, but both of their bodies were round and covered in fur. The one gorging itself on the deer had faded green spots that littered its entire body, the hairs on its front legs sharing the same colour.

  Ellis charged at it with a roar, hitting the Rass square across the face with his bow, the impact reverberating all the way up his arms. It stumbled back from the blow, away from the deer, letting loose a shrill wine as it did so.

  It retreated back behind a pair of trees, Ellis’s eyes never leaving it even though he was listening to the red Rass try and tip toe behind him. The green Rass which he had just struck climbed up a tree in less than a second, disappearing from sight as the first one once again charged.

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  Ellis tried to roll out the way of the Rass’s charge once again, but it had learned. It struck out its claw, catching his calf mid roll. He winced through the pain as he came to a stop, landing on his knees with his bow stretched out before him. He watched the Rass try and stand over the deer facing him with that sharp beak, once again letting loose the chicken squawk.

  “Mine!” Ellis thought he could almost hear the word as it did so.

  He glanced down at the wound on his calf, but it was only a light scratch, the blood still trying to squeeze out of the thin lines raked across the bottom of his leg.

  Ellis stopped to breathe, thinking through his situation. He was injured, dragging that deer had taken almost everything he had. This fight made every breath feel like hot knives against his lungs.

  He couldn't keep fighting, his arms and legs were going to give out. He didn’t even know where the Rass with green dots was anymore but the leaves falling in a strange pattern around him didn’t give him any hope it had run away.

  So, with no other option left, he did the only thing he could.

  He ran.

  The red Rass let loose another squawk and chased after him.

  He tried to run towards a clearing he had seen while tracking the deer, but the red Rass would not let Ellis go. Trying to use the forest as an obstacle to slow it down, he slid under fallen trees and changed directions at random. But only after a long chase that made his ragged panting even worse, did a final glance over his shoulder reveal the predator to be nowhere in sight.

  He stopped at the biggest tree he’d ever seen, stretching towards the clouds as its thick branches seemed to swallow the daylight above him. He put his back to it, his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. His eyes never stopped scanning the area around him as he panted.

  Ellis considered going back, knowing that they had probably just chased him away from the deer, which they would be feasting on now. Their meal meant he knew where they were and that their guard would be down, since they assumed they had driven him off. The damage they had done to the carcass meant the villagers might harass him, saying he scavenged it rather than hunted the animal… but he couldn’t go back empty handed.

  So with reluctance, Ellis notched an arrow, ready to teach the stupid animals what he thought of their thieving attempt on his deer. He had glanced away from the treeline for a split second but when he looked back up, he saw a pattern of leaf fall sprinting at him with barely a sound, like something heavy was running through the canopy at a speed Ellis could scarcely believe.

  But for all its speed, it was running in a straight line.

  He aimed the tip of the arrow toward the falling leaves, a smile almost tugging at his lips. He brought the bowstring to his face, a calm settling over his panicking mind like a wet blanket, before he let the arrow fly.

  It disappeared into the branches above, followed by a loud screech. The leaves stopped falling toward him and started falling in a single place, a little ways in front of Ellis. Branches followed the leaves, before the red Rass crashed down to the floor with a loud thud.

  He dared not approach, scanning the treeline as he notched another arrow, prepared for if its mate would attack him. He stayed vigilant, glancing at the body in case the animal was playing dead. But now that he could inspect the Rass without it trying to tear his face off…

  Despite its terrifying face and sharp claws, it was smaller than a deer. And… and it was dead. He had killed it, afterall. So why couldn’t he just take it back, instead?

  He would have to leave the deer, and the taste of lizard filled his mouth at the thought… but Ellis hoped his father would understand.

  If he brought a Rass back, it would alleviate Mathias’s fears. Since it was smaller than the deer, dragging it home would be a far easier chore than dragging the deer and it would prove Derek’s stupid question wrong. He would address every argument against him with one action and the village would have to change their choosing. It was still daylight, so if Ellis really pushed it… he could make it back in time. They would have to change their decision then.

  They wouldn’t have a choice.

  “Yes!” Elllis roared, unable to keep his excitement down, looking up towards the sky. “Thank you! Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! I knew you wouldn’t abandon me!”

  He laughed at his good fortune, looking back towards the dead animal with triumph only to find its mate, whimpering softly while nudging the lifeless body. Ellis’s glee turned to sweat on his back, and he let the notched arrow fly before he even knew his hands were moving.

  The arrow hit the Rass in the side, causing it to flinch and a louder, heartbroken whimper filled the air. Then it stopped whining, and started squawking as it turned to Ellis.

  It leapt the entire distance between them, screaming out its sore throated chicken growl as it flew through the air.

  Ellis barely got his bow in front of him in time, shoving it under the Rass’s throat just before its beak could pierce his neck. With its two front legs it manhandled him to the floor, pressing down on his ribs with such force all the wind rushed out of Ellis’s lungs.

  Luckily the tree kept it from getting its huge arms underneath Ellis's back. His fathers bow was keeping the snapping beak away from his neck and it let loose that whine right in his face. It started scratching at Ellis’s outstretched arms in frustration, the sharp claws raking his flesh off with ease. The pain made him cry out, but by some miracle it did not dissuade him from letting the bow in hands go. He kicked, he punched, he shoved with all his might, but the animal proved to be too strong, its beak edging closer and closer to Ellis’s face with every passing moment.

  When their eyes were inches apart, he could see the grief in them despite their lifeless look. He could see the promise of pain it would soon inflict upon the boy they had ambushed.

  But then its eyes focused on something right next to Ellis’s head.

  It stopped fighting instantly, freezing on the spot like a rabbit that had just been spotted. It let go of the bow in its mouth, and with a final kick Ellis was able to finally get it off him. But Ellis didn’t have enough time to notch an arrow, since it was already sprinting away, not even giving its dead mate a second glance.

  “You better run!” Ellis called after it with a pant, checking his forearms as they bled all over him. He checked them gingerly, the pain excruciating with even the lightest of touches. He rose to his feet, checking the damage to the rest of his body. His pants had tears in them but nothing compared to his shirt, ripped almost to tatters with light scratches covering his chest and stomach. He turned to the tree after he finished hissing from the pain, wondering why said tree had made the animal tuck tail and run.

  His eyes landed on a broken line of black, hidden by the shadow of the leaves.

  Ellis froze just as the Rass had, staring at it like a dead man. He prayed it wasn’t what he thought it was, until a foul stench filled the air, unlike anything he had smelt before. It was worse than the rotten eggs mixed with the manure old Castor used on the farms.

  It wasn’t fear that ran through Ellis, not really. He had always thought the rhyme was exaggerating towards the end about his heart stopping upon the sight of them, playing it up so that people took the ants seriously. But as he stared upon the line of black that had stopped moving and started staring right back at Ellis, that stench growing stronger and stronger with every passing second, he wanted to apologize for his hubris.

  It felt like Ada’s voice started singing to him, the flash of her smile going through his mind snapping him back to reality as he started whispering the rhyme out loud, ignoring the shifting treeroots beneath his feet.

  Seal the lids, salt the cracks

  Turn back if you see a line of black!

  Or kill a few and see,

  A red, a blue, a hundred and three!

  He tore at the bloody shirt on his chest, more desperate to get it off than in his fight against the Rass. His fingernails scratched his wounds in the process, causing him to whimper, before he held the shirt up in front of him. Trying to ignore the snap of tree roots that had spread out and surrounded him from all sides now, he searched the piece of cloth as thoroughly as he could.

  There! He saw where he had landed, across the mid-back of his shirt was a few squashed ants, so small he wanted to laugh at how much they made everyone’s legs shake at the mere mention of them. It only took a small turn of his head to see that small didn’t really describe an ant well. Just like the rhyme predicted, dozens of ants with red lined carapaces erupted from the ground. They ranged from the size of his hand to the size of a small dog, and he knew these were still technically the small ones.

  The stench started tasting acidic in his mouth, the red ants converging towards him with a fury that Ellis couldn’t believe. He turned back to the tree, and considered hiding in the canopy by lacing the branches with the salt still stuck to his hip. And then Ada’s voice once again ran through his head:

  Run as fast as you can

  There’s nowhere to hide, young man!

  And so, he threw his tattered shirt at the tree, jumped up and grabbed one of the branches, and used it to vault over the charging ants. He landed with a wince, the pain from his ankle worse now that the fight was over, and then… ran as fast as he could. Thanking the gods for his high dexterity and stamina the whole while.

  Ellis didn’t even glance at the dead Rass in his flight, all thoughts of being a hunter drowned out by the chittering that was following him. Even the adrenaline roaring in his ears and the thuds of his footsteps didn’t equal the noise that kept growing and growing as the scuttle of millions of legs started hammering from the tree behind him. As he ran, he let loose the salt pouch at his hip, leaving a long line of white behind him and hoping the taste they so abhorred would dissuade them from following.

  He had to get back to his village. Ants within ten kilometers of his home? He had to warn them. Or else they would all die.