This is the first chapter of a story I've been wanting to write a long time.
Chapter 1 is suitable for all-ages, but chapters in the future may or may not involve romance, sex etc.

I included the story below so that it's easier to read, but a pdf is also attached, which I hope works, if you should prefer that.
The format appears to be different where this text is compared to a pdf-document. I made new rows in the same places as in the document.
If it looks weird on a phone, that's why. I hope it's still ok.

Short synopsis:
A man and his female raptor companion in the wild.



Trust In The Wind

1. The Meeting


A fierce snowstorm is raging, howling as it hurls itself across the landscape of cliffs and rocky crevices.
The wind produces strange sounds as it snakes its way through the rocky formations, sounding almost like
an orchestra of howling wolves.

Through it, a lonesome, hooded figure slowly tries to find its way forward on a path along the side of a
cliff, winding its way through the alien, snow-covered landscape. They keep one gloved hand on the cliff at
all times as they slowly make their way through the deep snow, sensing each step carefully with thick, sturdy
boots. They have a long way to fall should they slip.

Across its back it has slung a rifle of sorts, but if they are armed with anything else, the large, white cloak
makes it impossible to know for any would-be onlooker. Other than a rifle, they seem to be carrying a large
basket filled with sticks next to a black, sturdy-looking rucksack.

Suddenly they stop as their outstretched hand no longer touches rock. Looming in front of them is now
the entrance to a cave, with snow piled some ways into the opening. The figure hastily readies their rifle,
checking the bolt-action mechanism to see that all is still good despite the harsh weather. They produce a
flashlight that they had been carrying inside their cloak and mount it on the side of the rifle and move into
the cave.

It’s not a very big cave, but deep enough to give shelter from the storm, curving into the cliff before
opening up into a natural chamber of sorts. Here, further in, the howling of the snowstorm is dampened
and the air is still. The cave appears to be empty and the figure relaxes somewhat.

“Yeah, this’ll have to do,” the figure says tiredly, a male by the sound of the voice. He brushes most of the
snow off before pulling down his hood to reveal a young but weathered, bearded face. He has long hair tied
into a ponytail. An impressive scar goes sideways across his right cheek, just under his eye, an old wound.

Seemingly exhausted, he finds a good spot against the cave wall where he puts down the basket, the rifle
and the rucksack, and a rabbit that he had been carrying underneath his thick cloak, hung to his belt. He is
shivering and hurries to get a fire going, using dried wooden bark and leaves for kindle.

Soon, joyous flames erupt from the pile of wood and kindle, their flickering shadows dancing on the cave
walls. The man sighs happily as the warmth spreads throughout his body as he huddles by the fire. He would
have been dead soon, darkness approaching and he recounts a silent prayer of thanks to whomever will
listen. Now and then his eyes dart towards the entrance.

He removes his thick cloak and the green jacket underneath, revealing a bandaged wound at his lower
arm. The bandage is red from blood and needs changing. He sets to doing that with supplies from his
rucksack, grimacing as he removes the old bandage. The wound appears to be from some sort of animal, but
is luckily not too deep, yet it still stings as the bandage comes away from it.

His stomach growls loudly and the man lets out a loud groan and sighs. He skillfully prepares the rabbit
with a knife and then sets to cooking it over the fire along with some spices that he had stored in a small
glass jar neatly tucked in his rucksack. He goes to the cave entrance to scoop some snow into a canister that he
boils over the fire, and soon he has both food and water to satisfy his needs. He also takes the time to fill a
pouch from his rucksack with more boiled water, for later use.

A hearty meal later and the man sighs happily, leaning back against the cave wall. All things considered, it
could have been much worse. Darkness has fallen outside, and the storm is not looking to settle down
anytime soon.

He really should sleep a bit.

He looks at the wristwatch that he’s wearing on his left arm. He wears it backwards, the watch facing the
side of his palm. He sets an alarm on it, not too long so that the fire will die, but long enough to get some
rest. He adds more sticks to the fire and lies down to rest, using his cloak as bedding best he can.

Sleep does not come easily. The man tosses back and forth in his uncomfortable bedding . The day has
been long and arduous, not at all going how he had thought it would. With a deep sigh he pulls out from
within his jacket a small, silver eagle that hangs around his neck with a silver chain. Its wings are spread.

He looks at it for a few moments as memories from his past flood his mind. His expression is one of
sadness, of grief. Finally he sighs and tucks it back inside his jacket. With one final look towards the entrance,
he shuts his eyes and wills himself some much needed rest.

. . . . . .

The man awakens in an instant, lying on his side and facing the entrance. He remains still a few
moments, listening for any sound, but all appears to be in order. He checks his watch. Five minutes until the
alarm. He sighs and rolls onto his back. The storm outside is still howling as it throws itself against the rocks
again and again, almost as if it’s resenting him having found respite. It’s quite comfortable actually, the
sound of the wind… the crackling of the fire still burning strong, the sound of slow thuds by the cave
entrance -

Shit, is all the man thinks before he is up on his feet, rifle already in hand and aiming towards the cave
entrance. He is not alone.

For a few moments, the man hopes he’d imagined it, but his hopes are quickly dashed, as into his view
steps a fully grown raptor.

The body is mostly gray, with a white underside going up the throat to the underside of the jaw. Its head,
reaching about to his shoulders, is crowned with a crest of feathers mostly in blue and a bit of yellow, with
more feathers of the same color on its arms and along the back, ending with a small plume on the tail. Its
yellow eyes focus intently on him as it steps forward into the cave, which suddenly feels much more cramped.

The human can tell right away that the beast is hurt as it walks unsteadily.

“Fuck, you survived, did you?” He curses, his gun aimed at it. “How the hell did you manage to follow
me? Guess I shouldn’t be surprised…” The raptor stares at him as it slowly moves closer, its black, slit pupils
putting all his senses on high alert as it looks him up and down.

The human is ready for anything, and suddenly a sense of calm envelops him, and he feels that whatever
may happen, it is meant to be. Is this how I die?

And then with a weird sounding hiss, the raptor unceremoniously topples over.

“…Huh?” The man slowly moves towards the beast now lying in front of him. His weird sensation of
accepting death is gone, thank the gods for that.

Is it dead? No, it’s clearly breathing. He notices a pretty serious gash across the leg which wasn’t there
before.

Another hiss brings his attention away from the raptor at his feet, towards the entrance and just as he
feared, his uninvited guest had not been alone. Three more appear now moving into the cave, two slightly
smaller and one about equal size to the first one.

“Brought some friends, eh? Well fuck me,” the man curses. He had been hoping against all odds that the
raptor from an encounter two days past would’ve been alone. He had barely made it out alive after barely
managing to shoot the raptor as it had charged right at him, claws raised and with a blood-chilling screech. It
had tumbled past him down a hill, but he had not stayed to check on it.

He knew of course from reading that they usually hunted in packs and could hunt prey for days, but one
could always hope… He had also read that raptors liked to disembowel their prey while it was still alive.

Making a face at that thought, he shakes his head. No use dwelling on such things now. He knows he
shouldn’t have come this way, but it’s not like he had any choice -what with having a bounty on his head
and all.

The three new ones are almost entirely gray, lacking the white bits, and their eye colors all differ as well,
making them fairly easy to tell apart for the human, their bodies clear enough in the flickering light of the
fire. The two smaller ones have orange and blue respectively while the larger has green. Another difference is
the color of their feathers, all three of them in varying shades matching their eyes, and the biggest one having
a patch of yellow on its head as well. All of them have long, sharp claws.

The man stands utterly still in this deadly staring contest that he now finds himself in as he considers his
options. He’ll likely only get one - maybe two shots at them at best if they all charge him. His bolt-action
rifle is precise, but slow. He must try to scare them instead.

The big raptor with the green eyes takes a few heavy steps forward towards the one on the ground and
places a clawed foot on it, letting off a low, rumbling snarl aimed at the human.

Are they claiming the one I shot? Aren’t they together? The first one must have smelled his presence
before entering the cave… And the gash looks too fresh to be from the fall when it had tried to kill him. Did the
other raptors hunt it? Did it come to him for help?

The enemy of my enemy…

Too many questions to answer now, but the hurt raptor can’t fend for itself and it definitely came to him
in a hurt, vulnerable state. The human stands his ground, staring at the green-eyed raptor defiantly.

Never show fear to a raptor, the human re reading.

Green-eyes stares at him a few moments, displaying an impressive array of teeth. When the human
doesn’t seem to move, the raptor makes a few short calls that reverberate through the small cave and one of
the other, smaller raptors slowly begins to move sideways while focusing on the human.

The human looks between them, realizing that they will try and get him from multiple directions at
once. Smart beasts... They hunt in packs.

He has to do something to stop this. He has no idea if the rifle will be enough to down a raptor, unless he
hits them square in the head perhaps. The first one had demonstrably survived.

Instead, he shoots at the ground close to the one moving sideways, hoping to scare them all away. The
shot is loud in the cave, making his ears ring. The raptor gives off a frightened screech and jumps back, and
green-eyes snaps at it, causing it to stop.

Well, the big one is definitely the leader, the human concludes as he reloads his bolt-action rifle.

The leader does a sort of drawn out mix between high-pitched clicking and hissing as it looks at the
human. It seems to be focused on his rifle.

“Back off,” he warns, taking a step forward as he points his gun at the leader.

Show dominance.

“Go on now. Git!” He waves his rifle at the lead raptor. It hisses angrily at him, hunching low and
holding its clawed arms out wide in a threatening manner at his challenge, the sharp claws almost looking
like long fingers. The human stands his ground at the fearsome display, trying to make himself appear as big
as possible.

A sound from the side catches his attention, and a glance makes him realize that the two smaller raptors
have spread out again, encircling him.

It’s now or never. Fuck it.

At the same instance these thoughts run through his mind, as he steels himself for a fight - and maybe
death - the lead raptor sees his momentary sideways glimpse as its chance to strike. It dashes forward as if
launched from a catapult. Even if the man is prepared, he is caught off guard by the sheer speed.

He gets off a shot but misses, and barely manages to jump out of the way of the incoming raptor. The
beast flies past him with a bone-chilling snarl that echoes throughout the cave, its tail hitting him square in
the belly on the way past. Its muscled mass forces him to the ground, breathless. The raptor turns around
and hisses, causing the two smaller raptors to back off.

Mine.

The smaller raptors bow their heads in show of respect to their alpha.

The human coughs but luckily he held onto his rifle. Your weapon is your life, son, a voice from the past
echoes within him as he rolls onto his back. The raptor lunges at him again, jumping and landing on top of
him, its legs on either side of his own, one of its claws digging into his leg painfully. It opens its jaw and
prepares to sink its long, sharp teeth into his soft, unprotected throat.

Reacting on pure instinct and faster than he ever thought possible, the human thrusts his rifle upwards
with both his hands, pushing it into the raptor’s mouth like the mouthpiece on a horse bridle. Surprised, the
raptor twists its head sideways in an effort to remove it.

Then as if appearing from nowhere, the human thrusts upwards with a knife that he had been carrying
in a leg holster. He strikes from below with all his strength, his body screaming from the rush of adrenaline
as he hits the raptor square where the throat meets the jaw, pushing the knife up into the head. The beast
makes a strange, gurgling noise and drops like a stone, landing with a large thud on top of the human.

It twitches once, twice, then nothing.

The two smaller raptors scream and hiss in confusion as the human stands up from behind their
suddenly dead companion and looks at them, red blood all over his upper body. His eyes lock on them,
sending fear through their bodies.

Alpha dead.

They hiss at him, unsure what to do before finally lowering their heads slightly. Then they turn and run
out into the dark and the still ongoing storm, their thuds quickly dissipating. After a few tense moments the
human lets himself relax when he concludes that they do not seem to be coming back.

“Sorry, but it was you or me,” he tells the dead raptor lying in front of him. He kneels and grabs the head
with both hands, then places his forehead against its own in a sign of respect and whispers a prayer for the
dead.


Standing up again, he is reminded of the yellow-eyed raptor and turns to look at it. He is surprised when
t’s staring right at him, their eyes meeting. The human tenses, his body screaming at him to flee or to kill, yet
he remains still. It feels as if those black slits can see right through him. He follows the eyes as they move
to his side where his fallen foe now lies, then it seems to drift back into unconsciousness.

“Well, shit,” the human sighs, relaxing as he takes a few steps away and sits down. He’s just downed a
fully grown raptor of all things… While protecting another! “This is not how I expected this day to go.”