Chapter 76: Patience
The forest thickened the deeper they went. Light trickled through the canopy in narrow beams, catching golden dust and flakes of pollen in the air.
Mark walked ahead, lazily swinging a dagger in one hand, while Ralt, taller, broad-shouldered, and quiet, strode beside Rudy. Billo followed behind Dune, tossing quiet jokes between themselves.
"So," Mark called out, voice sharp and slick, "you know what we're looking for, right?"
"It's about five meters tall," Ralt added, in a low, rumbling voice. "We kill it, we get three hundred golden Neba. Simple."
Rudy snorted. "Not that simple. You've got to be careful. The golden bull is already dangerous, but if you see the black one... run."
Dune looked up. "Black bull?"
Mark nodded. "Yeah, it's rare. Bigger. Meaner. Smarter too. People say it doesn't just trample you, it hunts you. Most hunters who saw it never made it back to say what happened."
Billo grinned. "So yeah... let's not find that one." They laughed, except for Dune, who stayed quiet.
"You alright, Outie?" Mark asked, glancing at him with a crooked grin. "You look pale. This your first time hunting?"
Ralt chimed in from the side. "Yeah, where'd you even come from, anyway?"
Dune spoke evenly. "I used to live in Fein."