A Meal All His Own

"LaRee, stand down!" LaRoe ordered, forcing his legs forward. "This is my battle as chief. Don't interfere!"

But LaRee roared in retaliation, keeping his gaze locked with that of the cannibal chief, "I will fight! Breathe, Father. I will hold him back!"

Oybar squinted with one eye and raised his opposite eyebrow. An eccentric grin spread from ear to ear. "So the pup wants to grow up? I'll be your test, fledgling. Don't disappoint me, or your blood will spoil my meal!"

"LaRee! Stop!" LaRoe doggedly ordered again.

"Then stop me, Father. Step between us and I'll back down."

That quick response got a laugh out of Oybar and forced a regretful frown onto LaRoe's face. And LaRoe's lack of physical reaction was a confirmation of LaRee's and Oybar's assumptions.

LaRee stated, "I am LaRee. Son of Death Arrow LaRoe. I challenge you in his stead. Blood Spear Oybar!"

"I accept your challenge! Son of Death Arrow. Grandson of Blood Arrow," Oybar replied, taking one step closer. "I acknowledge you as a warrior. Prove that your blood is strong!"

Twin short spears and dual tomahawks. Both pairs of weapons drew near as Oybar sprinted at LaRee.

Chtink. Chtink…

LaRee sidestepped and parried while offering a countering swipe with a handaxe, Oybar knocked aside via his second spear. They shared a quick glance before having another test clash, which ended in a similar result.

Impressed, Oybar's mad grin grew somewhat serious. "Not bad for a pup. You have skill."

LaRee was the same height as his father, albeit slightly less muscular. He looked up to the tall, cannibal chief without wavering or backing down. If anything, his eyes were only getting sharper.

That's when Oybar made a crossing swing with both spears, forcing LaRee a step back. The cannibal then sniffed the air. "Hmm… Mammoth?"

Chink, chink!

LaRee charged in next to not be forced into a purely defensive position.

But the cannibal chief was unfazed by the assault. He was too fixated on the rare scent of roasted mammoth. "Who killed the beast? It wasn't your father. Not with his broken body."

When LaRee didn't reply, Oybar pressed back against him. "Was it you, pup? Have you become a man already?"

Squinting, LaRee hastily pondered how to handle his tight situation.

"Speak, pup!" Oybar barked. "Are you a man? Have you killed your first mammoth?"

As a spear was thrust toward him, LaRee used a tomahawk to hook the spearhead. He pulled the short spear aside so that Oybar's arm crossed to the opposite side, creating a brief opening. And LaRee instantly took a swipe at Oybar's exposed arm.

A follow-up thrust had been made also. But Oybar quickly adjusted and pulled that strike back. With a hop step, Oybar used LaRee's pulling force to spin to the side and evade the swiping tomahawk.

"Yes. You are a warrior!" Oybar bellowed. "Your blood is ripe. Ready for drinking!

"But is your spear ready for killing?" LaRee mocked.

"Why else be named Blood Spear? Because I feast on your blood. Strong blood is the best drink. The strongest blood makes great wine," Oybar stated with the tip of his tongue hanging from his mouth. "Your father will be the best wine of my life. But I'll pair your meat with his drink. Relatives always taste better together."

LaRee gritted his teeth while breathing calmly through his nose. He was determined to keep his cool and face the enemy chief with every morsel of ability that LaRee could pull together.

Oybar charged again, leading with one spear while keeping the second pulled back, waiting for LaRee to react to the baiting thrust.

However, LaRee did something unexpected.

A tomahawk was suddenly in the air, flying toward Oybar's heart from point blank.

Still, Oybar managed to knock the tomahawk aside. Though it did remove Oybar's second spear as an option to attack.

Yet the most surprising thing was the second, airborne axe. It wasn't aimed at the cannibal's heart. It was flying low, toward Oybar's lunging knee. LaRee had thrown it from an underhand position, the perfect execution of a rare skill taught to LaRee by his father.

Frrip. Frrip…

Blood spilled on both sides. The tomahawk cut into the side of Oybar's calf, even though Oybar did his best to avoid serious damage. And a spear cut by LaRee's side, despite drawing back to create a bit of extra space.

Each of them kept a determined gaze, unfazed by the outcome of the exchange. However, their individual thoughts couldn't have been further apart.

*I can do this!* LaRee mentally demanded his utmost effort, *I'm not losing. No matter who it is!*

Oybar, on the other hand, was getting hungrier and hungrier.*Ohhh. He's more ripe than I thought. He's a meal all his own!*

"Dad!"

The moment LaRee shouted and dove to the side, two tomahawks flew into LaRee's hands. He caught and readied the axes before Oybar could charge in again. "Thanks, Dad!"

"Keep steady, Son," LaRoe replied. There was no point in further hiding his weakness, so LaRoe offered his son as much support as possible. "Stay sharp. Keep your pace."

Oybar laughed and licked LaRee's blood from his spear, "Oh, look at that. The puppy and papa are working together… Yes, keep that up. The closer the relationship, the tastier the meal.

"But…" the cannibal chief snickered. "I've misjudged you. You're no pup. You're a wolf, a killer. A proper meal."

LaRee retorted, "Say that after I'm dead. Until then, you'll have to face my hawks."

In response, Oybar shared a slim, sinister smile. "Excuse me. Since you are no snack, I must finish one meal before the next."

Oybar didn't need to turn away for LaRee to understand what was happening next. LaRee reacted immediately, dashing toward his father at full speed. And, to Oybar's surprise, LaRee was fast enough to close the short distance and cut the cannibal off from his unarmed, heavily-injured prey.

"LaRee… You are strong. Your legs are fast. Faster than mine," chuckled Oybar. He brandished his spears while rolling his shoulders, as if loosening up or stretching. "But there's still one last test. Can you keep up with a chief?"