Boar Hunt

Niklaus could always tell exactly what sort of day it would be based on how Hela greeted him in the morning. Today, she greeted him by flinging her head over the stall door, fixing him with her dark brown eyes.

She was feeling particularly feisty and as he was still midway through tying his scarf, she snaked her head out and snagged it in her teeth, pulling it from around his neck and into her stall. It dangled from her mouth like a flag and she swished her tail with enough attitude to power a windmill.

I’m hungry, she snorted. Where’s breakfast? We have a hunt today, and I refuse to go on an empty stomach.

Niklaus blinked. “Good morning to you too, sunshine.”

No, not good morning. Where’s the food? Also it’s cold.

“You had hay overnight,” he pointed out, unlatching the stall. “You certainly aren’t starving.”

That was yesterday’s hay.

“You’re getting food in only a few minutes,” Niklaus sighed. “Don’t be so greedy and impatient.”

Hela stomped a hoof. I demand oats. And respect.

Niklaus sighed again, rubbed his face, and fished a single carrot from the pouch at his belt. “Here. Don’t tell Mikhail.”

Hela snatched the carrot with enough enthusiasm to nearly take off his fingers, dropping the scarf. He bent down and picked it up, brushing off the sawdust and shaking it out. Above her, Chernysh croaked his own hunger from the rafters.

See? Hela nickered between crunches. He’s hungry too.

“He’s perfectly capable of going to find his own food,” Niklaus muttered.

Hela pretended not to hear him, finishing her carrot and yawning, showing the stable boy the bits of carrot stuck to her tongue. He grimaced in disgust, but patted her neck as he led her out of the stall to be tacked up.

Niklaus fastened her to the cross-ties and brought out her new hunting tack. Mikhail had just purchased a set in the purple and silver he had chosen for her, and Hela quite liked it. He threw the saddle blanket over her back and settled the saddle on top. The soft padding was perfectly settled, and as her stable boy buckled the saddle, she reached around and nibbled on his hat.

“Cut it out,” he swatted gently at her with a laugh. She left him alone for only a moment before snatching his hat and lifting her head so it was just out of his reach, prancing around a bit in the cross ties.

“Hela, this is serious,” Niklaus pulled her head down with the lead and stuck his fingers in her mouth, forcing her to drop the hat. Hela glared at him teasingly as he stuck it in his pocket, taking away the temptation and opportunity for her to do it again.

Then he quickly slid the bridle over her head and slipped the bit into her mouth while she was distracted. Hela chewed at the bit slightly, forcing it into a more comfortable position. Niklaus checked all the buckles and, satisfied, let her out into the stable yard where Mikhail would meet them.

***

By the time they left the stable yard and started into the pines, the world smelled like frost and distant woodsmoke. Their breath puffed out in soft clouds. Chernysh glided from tree to tree above them, clacking his beak in commentary on every squirrel he disturbed like a documentary host.

Deer today, Hela snorted to him as his small black body dove in front of her. Mikhail is practicing his mounted archery.

Laughing at the raven’s antics, Mikhail adjusted the quiver over his shoulder and urged her on. “Quietly love, unless you feel like going after rabbits again instead.”

I hate rabbits, Hela tossed her head. They’re just scared balls of fur. Not even remotely interesting to chase.

Mikhail hummed his agreement as if he could understand her. “If we get lucky, maybe we’ll see a boar. I did bring my rifle in case we do.”

Her rider let them down one of the old deer trails, half-hidden under ferns and the light dusting of snow from the night before, until the trees opened into a small clearing. Hela paused at his command, nostrils flaring.

She could smell something… her ears flicked rapidly, searching for whatever it was.

Mikhail waited silently and patiently as she hunted, listening for the animal himself. Suddenly, Chernysh swooped low and cawed sharply over a bush, startling the boar which burst from the underbrush. It was thick-necked and bristling, very determined to ruin their morning. Hela barely had time to leap out of the way as it barreled toward her legs.

Oh no, you don’t, she thought grimly, pivoting sharply and dancing sideways as Mikhail unfastened his rifle from the saddle. The boar skidded, regrouped, and charged again.
“Keep him turning, love!” Mikhail raised the rifle and guided her with a slight pressure of his thighs as she danced away from the charge. He lifted it, searching for shot as the boar squealed wildly.

She felt him breathe in and hold it and then with a bang, he squeezed the trigger. The bullet flew true, sinking into the boar’s skull. It staggered half a step, wheeled around, and collapsed into the ferns with a final huff of steam.

Hela blinked down at it. Well. That’s one way to handle breakfast.

Mikhail slid from the saddle and patted her withers. “Excellent job, love. Really gets the heart racing, doesn’t it?”

Chernysh croaked his agreement and flew down to perch beside the boar, eyeing it warily before hopping up to sit proudly on the carcass like he’d killed it himself.

Hela snorted in laughter and followed Mikhail over to the carcass as he waved the raven away.

Once the boar was cleaned, packed, and secured across Hela’s withers, they started the slow walk back. The forest glittered with frost; the sunlight slanted gold; steam drifted lazily from Hela’s coat.

A noise in the forest disrupted her focus and Hela tilted an ear backward as Mikhail forged ahead. Whatever it was left her earshot and she focused on the trail again as they pushed through a section of pine trees with extremely low branches, Hela ducking her head to avoid being lashed in the face.

A little help would be nice, she grumbled at Mikhail, who easily avoided the larger branches. Most horses would object to someone strapping a whole boar to their spine and then being led through the world’s smallest tunnel while also trying not to scrape that same boar onto the ground.

Her owner lifted a tree branch back for her and chuckled as if he could hear her thoughts. “You’re not even close to being hit.” He did move several other branches out of her way though, and soon they cleared the trees and had only a snowy field to cross.

Chernysh settled on Hela’s croup, feathers puffed against the cold. Hela flicked him a fond look.

You, she said to the raven, were extremely helpful. Unlike some people.

Chernysh kraaaked his vehement disagreement before fluttering off to dive-bomb the snow. Mikhail watched his antics with a faint smile on his face.

As they approached the stream in the field, Hela swung her head toward her rider. I think we should get treats when we get back. Apples for me, please. I did such a good job this morning, you know.

Mikhail ignored the nicker as they reached the stream, which was frozen. Hela eyed it skeptically.

If I fall, I’m blaming you, she whinnied.

“You’re not going to fall.” Mikhail stepped across the ice and pulled the reins, trying to convince her to follow. Hela delicately tapped the ice with her hoof.

It’s slippery.

“You have four legs.”

And you have unrealistic expectations. But she stepped onto the ice anyway, slowly, cautiously, like a noble queen forced to walk through a puddle. Chernysh hopped ahead of her, chuffing encouragingly. The ice groaned but held, and a moment later they reached the far bank.

“See?” Mikhail said. “Perfectly safe.”

Hela lifted her head proudly as they continued to the stable. Obviously. I’m very talented.

Mikhail shook his head at her antics as they entered the stable yard and Niklaus came running to help unload the boar. After exclaiming over the kill several times, and promising apples, he led her back to her stall for a rest before turn-out.