Hunters (II)

The mayor's office was a modest, functional space located near the town square. The walls were lined with worn wooden panels, and the air carried a faint scent of ink and dust.

 A sturdy desk, cluttered with papers, ink bottles, and a quill, sat at the center of the room, with a single large chair behind it. Opposite the desk stood two simple chairs for visitors, their seats slightly frayed from use.

Mary, the mayor's secretary, sat at a smaller desk just outside the office. She was a woman in her mid-thirties, with sharp eyes and an even sharper tongue.

Her dark brown hair was tied back into a neat bun, and her hands moved deftly as she scribbled notes in a ledger. Mary glanced up when Borislav walked in, his heavy boots hitting against the wooden floor.

"Borislav," she greeted curtly, her tone professional but distant. "The mayor is expecting you. Go on in."

Borislav nodded, his expression neutral. He pushed open the door without hesitation, stepping into the mayor's office. Mayor Lundy looked up from his desk, his round face betraying a hint of annoyance before quickly shifting to a forced smile.

"Ah, Borislav," Lundy said, gesturing to the chair in front of him. "Come in, sit down."

Borislav didn't bother with pleasantries. He pulled out the chair and sat, placing a rolled-up parchment on the desk.

"I'll get straight to it, Mayor. We lost five hunters this time."

Lundy's forced smile faded. "Five?"

His tone was sharp, but there was an undercurrent of something else—maybe relief that Borislav was losing people under his leadership.

Borislav nodded. "Five. Two to the beasts, three to the terrain. They were good men, but mistakes were made. It happens."

Lundy leaned back in his chair, drumming his fingers on the desk. "This is a problem, Borislav. We're already short on hunters as is."

"I know," Borislav said bluntly.

"But I'm not here to talk about what we can't change. Here's what we managed to bring back." He unrolled the parchment, revealing a list of the meat they had acquired, broken down by type and weight.

"Fifty boar, thirty-seven wild elk, twelve stonebirds," Borislav read out loud. "Enough to feed the town for a few months if it's rationed properly. But…" He hesitated, his face darkening.

"But what?" Lundy prompted, though his tone was more impatient than concerned.

"Ten percent of the meat spoiled during transport," Borislav admitted. "The heat, combined with the rough trails, made it hard to keep everything fresh. We'll need better equipment for storage and transport if we want to avoid this in the future."

Lundy frowned, but he didn't argue. Instead, he picked up the parchment and studied it. "And the hides?"

"All accounted for," Borislav said. "The tanner's already processing them. We'll have plenty of leather for repairs and trade."

Lundy nodded slowly. "That's something, at least. But this loss…" He sighed, setting the parchment down. "We can't afford to keep losing hunters like this, Borislav."

"I'm aware," Borislav said, his tone flat. "That's why I'm here. I want permission to recruit and train new hunters. The next hunt won't wait for us to grieve, and we need to be ready."

Lundy narrowed his eyes, leaning forward slightly. "Recruiting and training? Do you have any idea how much that will cost the town?"

"I do," Borislav said firmly. "But it's not a choice. It's a necessity. Unless you want to be the mayor who let the town starve."

Lundy's jaw tightened at the remark, but he didn't respond. He glanced at the parchment again, his thoughts clearly racing.

Mary entered the room, holding a cup of tea for the mayor. She placed it on the desk and left without a word, her presence barely acknowledged by either man.

After a long silence, Lundy finally spoke. "Fine. You have my approval. Draft the details for the recruitment and training. Mary will post it on the town's bulletin board tomorrow."

Borislav nodded. "Good. I'll handle the rest."

"Just keep in mind," Lundy added, his tone carrying a hint of warning, "this town doesn't have unlimited resources. Don't get ambitious."

"I never do," Borislav said, standing up. Without another word, he turned and left the office.

As he passed Mary's desk, she glanced up. "Everything settled?"

"It will be," Borislav replied, his voice gruff. Then he walked out, his heavy steps reaching down the hallway.

…

North walked down the dusty street, hands stuffed into his pockets, his face still a little red from the events earlier that morning. A few villagers passed by, nodding or giving a casual wave.

"North, trying to join the hunters, huh?" one of the men chuckled, shaking his head. "You're more suited for the fields, boy!"

'Please sir, no need to remind me…'

North waved back awkwardly, forcing a smile but quickening his pace. He didn't stop to respond.

He finally reached Granny Willow's Remedies, a quaint little shop with herbs hanging from the wooden beams and a faint smell of dried flowers and something bitter in the air. The door creaked as North stepped inside.

Granny Willow was behind the counter, meticulously grinding something in a mortar and pestle. Her granddaughter, Abbie, a lively girl with an effervescent personality around North's age, was sorting jars on a shelf, humming to herself.

"Ah, North! You're back," Willow said, not looking up from her work. Her voice was steady but warm.

Abbie turned, her face lighting up.

 "North! Did you bring the herbs? Or did you trip and lose them on the way?" she teased with a grin.

"Very funny," North said, setting the bundle of herbs on the counter. "All accounted for. No tripping this time."

Abbie laughed. "Well, that's progress."

Willow glanced at the bundle, nodding approvingly. "Good quality. You're learning, boy. Maybe you're not as hopeless as they say."

North rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish smile on his face.

 "Thanks, I guess? Though, if you think that's impressive, wait until you hear about what happened this morning."

Abbie raised an eyebrow, leaning against the counter. "Oh? What did you do now?"

"I... uh... tried to join the hunters," North admitted, his voice dropping slightly.

Abbie burst into laughter, nearly doubling over. Even Willow cracked a rare smile.

"You? A hunter?" Abbie said between laughs. "I can't believe you even tried!"

"Hey, it wasn't that bad," North protested, though his face said otherwise.

 "Okay, maybe it was bad. Borislav didn't even let me finish before turning me down."

Willow shook her head, still smiling. "You've got spirit, I'll give you that. But Borislav's not the type to hand out free chances."

Abbie smirked. "What were you thinking, North? They're out there wrestling wild boars and chasing down elk, and you're—"

"I get it, I get it!" North interrupted, raising his hands. "I thought maybe I could learn something. Besides, I've been working on my strength lately."

'Well a slingshot is part of my strength too…' he thought.

"Strength?!" Abbie laughed again. "Carrying bundles of herbs doesn't count as training, North!"

"Actually," Willow cut in, her tone more serious now, "the boy's got a point. Everyone starts somewhere. Even Borislav wasn't born a hunter."

North looked at Willow, surprised. "You think so?"

Willow nodded slowly. "But it takes more than spirit. It takes discipline, skill, and patience. You're not ready yet, boy. But that doesn't mean you won't be someday."

'If only you knew, granny…!' North wanted to retort but he did not want to cause anymore trouble.

Abbie gave him a sideways look, her teasing grin softening. "Maybe Granny's right. But if you want to impress Borislav, you'll need more than just a good story about picking herbs."

"Speaking of stories," Willow interjected, "any trouble on the road today, North? Strange sightings? Anything unusual?"

North shook his head. "Nothing out of the ordinary. Just a few people teasing me about the hunters. The roads were quiet."

"Good," Willow said, her tone thoughtful. "With the way things have been lately, quiet is rare. You should count yourself lucky."

The three of them continued chatting, the conversation drifting from local gossip to stories of Willow's younger days when she used to travel far beyond the town, of how she was a genius potion maker. Abbie teased North a little more, but there was a warmth to it that made him smile despite himself.

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, North stood up, stretching. "I should get going. Thanks for the advice... and the laughs, I guess."

Abbie waved him off with a grin. "Don't get lost on the way home!"

Willow nodded, her expression kind but firm. "Take care, boy. And remember—if you're serious about becoming stronger, you'll need to work harder than you've ever worked before."

North nodded, stepping outside as the evening sun stretched across the town.

The air was cooler now, and he felt a mix of determination and embarrassment in his chest.

He walked home in the evening sunset, the sounds of the town quieting around him, his mind already coming up with something he would do next.