The Way of the Beast

***

  With one last wave from a short distance, father and son headed back north through the forest. Chohla sat at the campfire, smiling to himself. It had been a long time since one of his ancient bloodline had shown signs of power, and so prominently at that.

  He'd watched the boy battle the wood curs from afar, letting young Stenhelt get a sample of his own potential. Chohla wasn't sure how strong the boy might get, or in what way. But he had a fair guess of the latter.

  Chohla was initially of two minds in choosing to help Halivik or not when the wood curs came upon the boy and his father. Letting nature run its course was the cycle of life, after all. It would also most likely mean the father's slow death. Stenhelt was still in need of guidance, stern but nurturing. His father provided that.

  And so Chohla chose to alter destiny by use of his practiced guise as an herbalist. In giving the huntsman a simple surge of his healing power, Halivik would live. That would give more time for the boy to learn needed lessons.

  Along with that, the father's lessened ability to provide because of his maimed leg and weak grip would force more independence and responsibility on young Stenhelt. Chohla felt that those qualities shape a man as much as guidance.

  The use of herbs was an old skill, some of which he'd passed on to different peoples long ago. Chohla had long since surpassed the need for them; a touch was all that was needed now. Still, it gave the short-lived races something to focus on, something they could understand.

  He and the few others of his kind learned long ago that to display any power beyond simple understanding had them being seen as deific. Some of the resulting worshipping practices in their honor became warped and unwholesome. It was best to avoid the chance of that occurring again, although the interaction was missed.

  Chohla enjoyed visiting Kaldevarr in the realm of Ethion. Days and seasons were longer there than in other faraway places, and its small moons spun faster through the sky. The wanderer still found the concept of time curious, or at least how the short-lived races felt the need to track it to some degree. There in Kaldevarr, for example, children came of age sooner than in most of the other realms. Chohla presumed the young races worried about time because they had so little of it. Even with their intellect and ambition, he still pitied them.

  There wasn't any pity for young Stenhelt, though - he showed the potential for a strong life. Chohla was mainly curious about the future for him. Soon would come the time when the boy would be confused about things he could do; things no one else could, things that might frighten him... and others. What kind of 'Chohla' would he be if he did not linger for a time to offer wisdom when needed? He wanted little Khoveyo to grow to be healthy of mind, heart, and body, as he would any other of his descendants.

  Chohla smiled as he stoked the small fire. Yes, he would cross paths with the boy again.