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The hunter's hunger, the prey's demise, the power flood his veins, the hunt continues
The Hunter




The gelfling were indifferent to him as a prey.


There were tales that he especially likes to capture the reckless Stonewood, who got too far into the woods, kill them and eat their flesh to satiate his endless hunger for prey’s meat.


That was amusing.


Gelfling were unworthy prey and he killed them only, if they get in a way into hunt on something bigger and more intimidating. His skill as hunter would be insulted if he especially followed, tracked and killed a gelfling.


But that was good they feared him. They won’t be meddling in his pursuits.


He liked few gelfling in his life. These were not afraid of him, at least not when he allowed them to know him. When he allowed them to live and see that he won’t send them forth and follow them for sport, to later devour them. Though they believed that for quite long at the beginning.


Gelfling weren’t as stupid as the castle dwellers imagined. They were naive in some way that he couldn’t deny but could guess much more than skekVar or skekSo could expect. They didn’t have sharp skeksis senses, talons and fangs. They had much less to use. Yes there were hunters among them and he knew they aren’t weak, scared and clumsy. In comparison to him, much weaker, like childlings. but they had something, this energy of youth, that he liked observing, from afar, when they killed prey, fought for life or died in the claws and jaws.

Still, the tales of himself amused him, even if at the beginning, when he was young, insulted in some way.


Now he was wiser enough to use them for his own benefit.