Her name was Tatterhide, her pelt red as blood, with only a band of night about her face. She was her mother and her father, clever as well as strong. For now, she was but a filly going on a hunt with her father for she had much to learn.

“Little Tatterhide, little one, learn to hunt, bide your time.”

Black Dog let his daughter lead the way; this was her lesson to learn afterall.

“Choose your prey wisely, do not be rash.”

It was with these words in her ears that little Tatterhide led her father off into the swamp until she scented her prey. She crept towards the scent, her father followed her on light hooves. She stopped when she was close enough to see her prey. Several body lengths away was a fat, sleek rox getting ready for winter.

She whispered, “That, father, will be our prey.”

Though Black Dog nodded, he seemed to be paying more attention to the dark expanse of water the rox was drinking from than the rox itself. “Go ahead then.”

And so, little Tatterhide dropped into a low crouch and wove her way, near silent, through the brush, careful of her hooves sinking into the ground.

Black Dog watched her go, eyes sharp and watchful, he would offer help later, corrections, to make her swifter, faster, more efficient, but for now, he was a silent observer.

Tatterhide tensed when she was close to the rox and right as she sailed at the clever creature, already moving to escape, the water exploded with a splash. A shot a crocodile gripping the rox with its jaws just as Tatterhide found purchase and pulled back.

Dragged partially out of the water by the sheer force of Tatterhide’s jerk, the crocodile twisted this way and that, rolling as it often did to tear its prey apart. The rox was dead, that was for sure. Now it was simply a fight between kimeti and crocodile to see who would get it. The crocodile released the rox and shot forward at Tatterhide. She was quick and managed to evade the strike, but she dropped the rox as well.

“Let it go, Tatterhide!”

But little Tatterhide was much too determined to let a crocodile steal her prey so before it could take the rox into the water, she dived forward, gripped the rox and gave a ferocious jerk of her neck, pulling the crocodile farther away from the water than it had already come.

Black Dog was wiser than his daughter was brash and though he kept telling her to let go and leave it, Tatterhide would not. Black Dog was not a coward, but he would not intervene for now; this was his daughter’s lesson to learn. Despite this, he worried for her; he did not want to see her hurt even though it would teach her a valuable lesson.

And so, he watched as she struggled, advising her when he could and trying to tell her to leave the rox to the crocodile.

She fought as hard as her body could manage, but she was small still, not quite full grown, and the crocodile moved in ways to conserve its energy while she fought with all her might.

Soon, she was exhausted and though she wouldn’t let go, her actions were not so quick and it seemed likely that if the crocodile so chose, it would get its jaws on her so Black Dog ordered her to come to him.

It was not often that her father ordered her to do anything, more often than not leading her to lessons and letting her learn them on her own. So when she heard the command, she finally gave in and let go, slinking to her father’s side, defeated. The crocodile watched the pair warily, rox gripped in its jaws.

Black Dog led Tatterhide in a deliberate show of turning around and taking slow steps away.

Satisfied, the crocodile lumbered around, twisting to face the water and took its heavy, crawling steps towards the water. Black Dog heard the turn and it was then that he turned back around.

“Watch, little one.”

And he charged, taking advantage of the crocodile’s blind spot; it could not see what came directly behind it at its neck. He was on top of the crocodile before it could react and struck out with a sure hoof, cutting into its neck. With another neat strike, the crocodile was still. Then Black Dog bent down, took the rox from the crocodile’s jaws and tossed it over to Tatterhide who caught it deftly out of the air.

He smiled at his daughter who smiled back.

“Know your enemies’ weaknesses, know you limits, and know when there is more than one way to achieve an end.”

And so, father and daughter returned to their resting ground, their prizes, a rox and a crocodile, gripped in their jaws.



(this story was told by Rift in Stone as the item he brought back from his pilgrimage for Westfen)