The Predator's Shadow
Asdin’s heart hammered quietly against his ribs. It wasn't the usual flutter he felt when hunting small game; this was the chilling realization that he might have stepped into the shadow of a true predator.
At Urnil’s three-word command, Asdin froze.
“A trace? Where?”
“Do you see that patch of snow ahead, where the ground is exposed?”
Asdin nodded.
“That’s not dirt. It’s excrement.”
Asdin leaned down, bringing his face close to the ground to catch a scent. In the dead of winter, when everything was frozen solid, smells were faint, but this was undeniably different from the musty odor of soil.
“It seems this really has become the Taung’s territory.”
Asdin signaled to Srem. A dull, rhythmic tapping of metal against wood echoed through the trees. Though they were over a hundred paces apart, the seasoned hunter didn't miss the signal and approached quickly.
“Did you find it?”
“Here.”
Asdin pointed to the partially buried droppings. Srem recognized what it was the moment he saw it.
“Excrement. You’ve got a sharp eye to have spotted that.”
“You knew what it was without even smelling it.”
“I’ve seen it more than once or twice.”
“Did you find anything on your side?”
“Nothing.”
Srem shook his head at Asdin’s question. He picked up a stray branch from the ground and poked at the Taung’s waste. Naturally, it was frozen solid in the midwinter chill, but Srem pressed harder.
Unlike the rock-hard exterior, the inside gave way with a soft, yielding sensation.
“It hasn't frozen through completely. It must have been marked early this morning. It’s certain that the beast is nearby.”
Srem nodded and began to examine the surrounding thicket in detail. Asdin followed, and soon, Srem beckoned him over with a wave of his hand.
“Look at this.”
Asdin looked where Srem pointed. Dried, brittle leaves lay scattered on the ground, crushed into a subtle, distinct pattern.
“Footprints!”
“Right. The trail continues this way. Let’s set the trap nearby.”
Once Srem made the decision, they untied the vine bag containing the meat. As they peeled back the broad leaves wrapping the chunks, a savory aroma wafted out despite the cold, accompanied by the faint, sharp scent of spices. After placing the meat in a strategic spot, Srem and Asdin took their positions far from the footprints—a vantage point where they could watch the trap from a distance.
“Now what do we do?”
Asdin’s teeth chattered, his breath puffing out in white clouds. He could have used his Jeongsu to warm himself, but he was trying to conserve his energy. Unaware of this, Srem simply began scraping together dry leaves and twigs, looking at the shivering boy.
“Cold, aren't you? Let’s warm up.”
The hunter skillfully lit a tiny fire. Since they didn't know when the Taung would appear, the flame had to be kept as small as possible.
“Stay here.”
Srem deliberately moved a few burning twigs toward the meat. He used nearby stones to build a small wall and a roof, placing the meat and the burning wood beneath it. As the meat began to cook from the contact, its concentrated aroma started to spread in all directions.
Srem returned, set his bow down near the fire, and sat beside Asdin, rubbing his hands together.
“Phew, it’s cold.”
“Here, sit closer, Uncle.”
“Thanks.”
As the warmth seeped into his body, Srem’s lips curled into a gentle smile.
“Now, we just wait.”
Thus began the tedious wait. With the campfire smoldering weakly, the two sat with their backs against a small ridge and some shrubs, occasionally peering over the bushes to check the state of the trap.
Waiting for a Taung took a long time. No matter how seasoned a hunter Srem was, a Taung was not an easy prey to find. Time belonged to the beast, and it was a test of endurance that Srem and Asdin had to bear.
“Talking during a hunt isn't a great habit. Some hunters get so distracted by their own chatter that they lose sight of their prey for a split second.”
“But we’re talking right now, aren't we?”
“True. But this is important. While it’s best to stay focused in silence, there are times when that’s not possible. So, you must make it a habit to keep your eyes on the prey or the field even while you speak.”
Srem taught him many things. He taught him how to maintain tension during a hunt without losing focus.
“Look at this. If you prop your weapon against the ground at an angle like this, you can hide your body behind it.”
He taught him tactics to effectively use weapons that were still too heavy for him to handle.
“It’s also important to make a habit of handling flint. At night, even that simple light can lure an enemy. You can draw them into a trap while you move to a safer location.”
He even taught him how to intercept enemies at night. Every word was a precious piece of life-saving knowledge for Asdin.
“If you remember these well, they’ll help you survive.”
“Okay.”
Asdin answered, looking up at Srem with an unreadable expression. Srem, busy watching the trap through the bushes, didn't notice the look in the boy's eyes.
“Why are you being so good to me, Uncle?”
“Hm?”
Srem replied without turning his head. The sun was beginning to set. Asdin broke some twigs to feed the fire, careful not to let it grow too large.
“I thought all Exiliers were my enemies. To survive, I had to be wary of everyone but myself. I even almost broke your arm because of that.”
“You did.”
“As you can see, I’m just a kid living alone. You could have tried to kill me any number of times. Why are you being so good to me?”
“Do I need a reason?”
“What?”
Asdin looked at Srem as if he’d been struck. Srem continued to watch the trap through the shrubs.
“It’s only natural for an adult to look after a child.”
Asdin looked up at his profile, speechless. A light of trust, never seen before, was beginning to dawn in his eyes.
“Unc-.”
“Shh.”
The moment Asdin opened his mouth to speak, Srem urgently raised a finger. The tension Srem felt was instantly transmitted to Asdin, who stiffened.
Asdin’s gaze shifted to the gap in the bushes he had cleared for himself. Between the distant trees, he saw a massive, dark-colored bulk moving.
If the Ho he had imagined was sleek and large, what he saw now looked like a giant black-brown boulder coming to life.
“It’s the beast.”
It was a Taung.
Unlike other feline-like animals, a Taung’s claws are always protruded at the tips of its toes. Digging its dull, white claws—which contrasted sharply with its dark, deep pupils—into the ground, the Taung finally reached the trap.
A roar that seemed to be pulled from the depths of its massive body mixed with the wind. At the sound of the seasoned predator, the boy, still new to the wild, silently muttered a god’s name in his heart.
“If anything happens, I’ll move first. Stay calm.”
Srem whispered in a voice so low it was barely audible. Asdin nodded, watching his hands. The bow and arrow that had been resting warmly by the fire were now held silently and carefully in Srem’s grip.
The Taung showed signs of wariness toward the foreign object in its territory. After growling at the succulent chunks of meat for a while, it began to sniff the air.
Asdin and Srem swallowed hard, watching through the gaps in the shrubs.
“Please, eat it…”
Asdin looked at Srem in surprise. To Asdin, a ‘seasoned’ hunter meant someone with the ability to avoid failure at all costs. But he was wrong. Even the seasoned feared failure.
Seeing cold sweat bead on Srem’s hands as he gripped the bow, Asdin tightened his resolve and gripped his short sword with both hands.
As the two watched with bated breath, the Taung opened its jaws. It let out a long roar and lunged its head toward the meat.
The Taung’s meal didn't last long. For its size, the beast ate with incredible speed. Asdin watched in awe as the Taung devoured enough meat to last him three days in the blink of an eye.
Asdin shook his head silently, signaling he didn't know. It wasn't the time to talk.
Unbothered by the god’s biting remarks, the Taung let out a satisfied, pleasant sound, content with its feast. To assert its territory, it began to scratch claw marks into a nearby tree and rub its back against it.
It was only after quite some time that its behavior began to turn strange.
“It’s starting.”
At Srem’s whisper, carried on the wind, Asdin watched the Taung with keen eyes.
At first, it was subtle, but the Taung was showing abnormal reactions. It began to drool, and its growls shifted from roars to nervous, pained whimpers.
“Graww-!”
Scratching the ground, pacing, and rubbing its head against the earth, the Taung soon began to crawl in agony, rolling around, clawing at its own belly, and letting out shrill cries.
Realizing the pain stemmed from what it had just eaten, the Taung gagged, trying to vomit. Srem wasn't about to let this opportunity pass. He released the taut bowstring. A flash of an arrow flew from the bushes and embedded itself in the Taung’s left hindquarter.
“Kuu-woong!”
The pained Taung’s head whipped around. But from that distance, it couldn't easily spot the two hidden behind the shrubs.
Still, it was clear something had struck it. Leaving the wary Taung behind, Srem signaled to Asdin to move slowly. Following Srem’s lead, Asdin moved with a pounding heart. They circled around stealthily. Srem’s judgment was correct; the Taung, while cautious, was definitely approaching the spot where they had been.
But by then, they had already moved fifty meters from their original position. Hiding in the bushes, Srem held up a finger to Asdin and observed the Taung’s reaction once more.
“It’s struggling.”
Despite his words, Srem didn't look relieved. Asdin asked with a bewildered expression.
“Then shouldn't it be easy to catch now?”
“Don't underestimate a beast. Even if it looks like it’s dying, it can pounce in an instant.”
Srem whispered and nocked another arrow. “I’ll end it with one sure shot.”
The taut string and arrowhead appeared through the bushes. The Taung reached the spot where they had been and finally encountered the scent of the strangers. At that exact moment, Srem released the string. With a faint ping, the arrow sliced through the air like a blade. But it missed.
The Taung, overcome with pain and rage, stood on its hind legs, roared, and then collapsed, gasping and shaking its head wildly. Because of that, the arrow that should have struck its flank missed, hitting the ground instead.
“Damn it...!”
The Taung’s head turned. Having spotted the direction from which the arrow came, it was now staring directly at the bushes where they were hiding.
“GRRRROOOOAAAR!”
The Taung roared at the fresh prey. Realizing there was no point in hiding his voice anymore, Srem shouted:
“Run! Asdin!”