Huldra Hunt

20250908

Prompt from DailyPrompt.com

He had been so charming at first, sweeping her off her feet and enveloping her in love. But now, he was no charming gentleman. He was The Hunter. And she was his prey.
But if he thought she’d go down without a fight, he’d learned nothing from their time together.
Her talons left gouges on the stone as she clawed her way up the cliff, her huffing breath clouding the cold air.
Every second she gained here counted. She had to be faster than he was going around and running up the slope.
“Elodie!”
His voice was sweet. Coaxing. A mundane glamour. She wouldn’t be fooled twice.
While her disguise had been shattered by a faceful of holy water, his had fallen apart when he grinned at seeing her true form. His boyish innocence cast aside to bare vicious glee.
“Elodie…”
Clearly realising that it was over between them, his voice shifted. Sweetness turning cloying. Fangs showing through.
She bared her own and hurled herself up the last craggy stretch to the ridge crest, her tail thrashing to keep her balanced. Without pause, sparing only a glance towards his voice to be assured he hadn’t caught up, she galloped the other way. Weaving between the trees like the forest child she was.
Now that she’d broken loose there was no way he could catch up to her. She need only fear his rifle and any traps. But the open stretches where traps could not be hidden left her vulnerable to shots, while the cover the trees provided left her unsure what lay ahead.
The safest thing would be to find a steep slope and scamper down, leaving him up on the ridge while she fled into the thick forest. He would be helpless. She would be free. He’d never catch her off-guard again. Never even see her again.
However… that meant leaving him alive.
No.
Her mind raced. Tracing the path of the ridge, its crannies and turns. Where would be best to lay a trap of her own? Aha. Goater’s Gulch.
Curving her path, she deliberately slowed. Planted her feet harder.
Let him think she tired. Let him believe he had the advantage.
Tempt him into overconfidence, so when he saw her vanish into the brush he didn’t falter.
“You can’t run forever!” His voice was ragged with breathlessness. Tsk.
She’d danced with many hunters through the forest. All local. All wiser. They’d followed her through bush and stream, across rock and mud, armed with their wits and experience and a sharp pruning knife. Seeking to earn a lock of her hair. Proof of her favour.
If she deemed them worthy she would stop and wait. Watching unblinking as they slowly approached. Some lost their nerve and fled, unwilling to come within reach of her wild form. Some lost her approval through crass mistake and were left cursed - or devoured.
Whereas those who kept their head and manners walked away with a trinket that promised luck in the hunt.
He was close behind now. “I will take your heart!”
If she had the breath (and it wouldn’t spoil everything) she would’ve laughed. What, was that it? He’d heard winning a huldra heart made you a god amongst hunters and thought that meant cutting it out?
Of course he did. A fool like him could only conceive of taking.
But you couldn’t steal from a huldra. Boons could never be wrest by force. It was not her hair itself which held magic, it was the favour it represented.
Poor, foolish, grasping mortal.
Now you will learn.
She skipped through the brush curtain, her golden trusses teasing the light, and dropped gracefully down into the gulch. Barely a heartbeat later he plowed through, his flailing boot seeking purchase in air, a startled grunt escaping as he realised he’d been played.
Cling tight to the rifle or empty his hands to catch himself?
It mattered not. The hunt was over regardless.
She exploded out of her crouch, rising to meet his helpless form, talons slashing into the thick leather of his coat and holding him trapped beneath her as they crashed down the rocky slope. Her heart singing at each yelp and whimper that burst from his battered body.
A few times they rolled, but she always came out on top. His desperate, grasping hands only cut and bruised themselves without slowing his descent. His rifle lay discarded in the stream. His knives mere ornaments for the grass. When they finally reached the bottom of the slope he was a bloodied, crumpled mess.
She peeled herself free, panting and giggling, to inspect her victim. All pride and lascivious hunger had been dashed against the merciless rocks. The gurgling wheezing, and unnatural shape of his ribcage, indicated his end was nigh. She wasn’t inclined to hasten it.
Instead, before his agonised gaze, she made a show of picking up his hat and dusting it back into shape. Tried it on. Struck a teasing pose above him, her inhuman beauty on full display.
She could see, peeking out of his pack, her discarded garments. Cast aside to speed her flight. She doubted they could be salvaged now, her having ripped them open in haste.
“Why stop to collect them?” She wondered, pulling out the petticoat and letting it flap in the breeze. “Rags to wrap my butchered heart in?”
He gave no answer. At this point he probably couldn’t speak.
No loss.
She settled herself to watch his life ebb. Smirking at his suffering. Licking her lips as she eyed his tenderised flesh.
“I haven’t eaten human in years. Did they tell you? How they give me offerings in exchange for my favour? But I don’t think they’ll mind me supping on you. They’ll certainly much prefer it to me taking offence to them for your actions.”
She lowered her eyelids, her voice dropping to a purr. “I wonder how you’ll taste. Deer simply can’t compare. And arrogance is the sweetest spice. Mmm…”

Prompt was the first paragraph.