Beh stands with her back against the bottom of a cliff. Her mouth is open, and a continual string of sounds emanates from it as she leans her palms against the sheer cliff and kicks out with her slender legs. On one side of her is the little ravine with a trickle of foul water running far below, and in front of her is a huge, large-tusked boar.
He is one of the biggest ones I have ever seen with coarse black hair sticking out from his body. His hooves are sharp and covered in mud. I can see a hole off to one side where he has obviously been digging right near where Beh usually relieves herself. The creature ducks its head low to the ground and squeals out a warning before it starts to charge.
I’m too far away. I can’t get to her in time.
My eyes never leave the scene as I run with my feet pounding on the ground and my heart pounding in my chest, knowing there is no way I can get there fast enough to stop what is happening. Beh tries to kick out at the beast, but she doesn’t make contact with him. He butts toward her foot, and his tusk catches on the bottom of the long, strange leggings near where they encase her calves.
With a terrible sound, the material rips all the way up the side of her leg to her hip. Beh begins to scream again as the boar takes a step back, shakes his head free of a piece of cloth caught on his tusk, and paws at the ground as I finally get close enough to distract the beast.
Without putting any thought into how dangerous it is, I run forward—yelling as loudly as I can at the creature—and throw my body at his. As soon as my chest hits his hard, muscled body, the wind is knocked out of me, and I am momentarily stunned. I have to take a second to force air into my lungs again. Though the boar is short-legged, his massive, thick body is long.
The great boar squeals and bucks, trying to dislodge me, but I grab one of his tusks and hold on tight, knowing that if he tosses me away, he will go after Beh again. I throw one of my legs over his back and tighten up around him. I have to make sure my thighs are as anchored to his sides as they can be. He bucks again, but I manage to get one arm under his snout without letting go of the massive tusk and try to pull his head to the side.
My other hand still holds on to the slim piece of flint I had been using to make Beh’s gift. It’s nothing like I would usually use to attack and kill so large a beast. It’s not even strong enough to cut through his thick hide had he been dead, but it’s all I have. With the blunt part of the flint against my palm, I shove the tip as hard as I can into the thick skin of his neck.
The boar shrieks and bucks. I can feel warm blood as it covers my hand and wrist, but it’s not much—I’ve barely cut into his skin. I have to find the thick vessel at his throat if I have any hope of killing him.
I have to save Beh.
The boar twists and turns his head—trying to gouge me with his long, sharp tusks. He alternates between attempting to stab me and kicking his feet out behind him, trying to dislodge me from his back. My legs tighten around his flanks and my heels dig into his sides. As I adjust myself to hold on, he whips his head around, and I feel a sharp sting in my forearm as one of his tusks connects with my skin.
The pain is awful, but a flash of the creature going after Beh runs through my mind, and I refuse to let go even though I can feel the blood running down my arm. Beh is screaming, but I can’t look at her and hold on at the same time.
I dig the flint into the animal’s neck again, making several small cuts and generally angering the boar but not doing any real damage to him. I can’t get a deep enough cut across his throat where I need it to be while he continues to flip and twist his head around, trying to slash me with his overgrown teeth.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see my mate moving toward us, crying out for me. In her hand is a long, but very thin, branch from a tree. I make a sound that is somewhere between a growl and a whimper. Not only will that sized branch not come close to diverting the boar, it will likely direct his attention toward another target.
He will go after her again.
I have to do something before she gets too close.
With a roar, I pull my arm up from around the creature’s neck where I am trying to cut him, ball my hand into a fist, and slam my knuckles against the creature’s forehead, right between his eyes.
Momentarily stunned, he stops the thrashing of his head long enough for me to get the flint in the right position to open his carotid artery. I can feel the difference immediately as warm blood gushes instead of trickles over my hand and arm, and the boar staggers to one side. I only have to hold on to him for a moment before his legs buckle and he collapses. I’m stunned, lying partially under the beast, but he is finally dead.