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His voice is very faint, and he is very cold, but he still manages to point away from the creature, away from his uncle, and away from P’oilkat. You barely see it in the distance, and at first you're unsure of what it is you're looking at. Eventually though, you make it out. An owl, flying on silent wings away from everything, off down into the cliffs to the side of P’oilkat.
You raise your voice to call for Talons-on-the-Tree, but as you take the breath into your lungs, a sweep of wind cuts down through the world, a great fan of black and grisly nettles. The words come out, you think. You feel the vibrations from your throat, but there is no sound. No noise, the entire world is bereft of it. Kule’s small breathing, the shouts of the Maidu Braves in the distance, no grand cawing of the ravens, every small miscellaneous thing from the slush of snow underfoot to the crackle of the great pyre. No noise sounds over all the Earth. You look up, the ravens blacken the moon and stars, there are thousands and thousands of them.
This has happened before…whatever you decide…you must be swift about it.
You can continue to hunt the creature. The divine wound on your back bleeds. Something, somewhere, for some reason, requires the death of this creature. It is death sick and fleeing, but that makes it all the more dangerous.
You can return to P’oilkat. To the white light, to other men. You can join yourself with the Indians. You came here for this, and safety is much more likely in the company of armed Braves and learned shamans. Something is about to happen, and safety out in the dark is not guaranteed.
You can follow the owl. A curiosity. A lone owl at night means as much as an elk in a herd during the day. Probably.
>Continue the Hunt
>Return to P’oilkat
>Follow the Owl
