Chapter Text
Tonight was a reunion for the retired hunters of The Huntsman Tavern. Among the young and old, there was a married trio whose names are Reba, Nick, and Rozar, sitting in their favorite booth at the corner of the tavern. After Rozar's painful transformation, they decided to pursue bounties that were mostly animal-based for his well-being.
Until seven long years after his transformation, the funk trolls were able to find the true cure to undo the transformation of the curse. As they gave him the true cure, he quickly yet painfully returned to his original form with a few noticeable changes. His family and his lovers, Reba and Nick, were overjoyed to see their love return to his original form. As the months passed, the three of them decided to start a family together.
Sitting with them were the yodelers' brothers, Dickory and Hickory.
Hickory's spouses decided to stay home to keep an eye on their younger kids, including sleeping early, since earlier that day they were pushing themselves with their work and had forgotten to take breaks in between.
They're not as young as they used to be. They're all getting older, and the elder kiddos took their mama's places as both Mayor and Sheriff of Lonesome Flats.
Their son, Bucky, picks up his Mama's role of Mayor, and their daughter, Clampers, wears her Mama's badge and becomes the sheriff of Lonesome Flats. Hickory never felt so gosh darn proud of their elder kiddos.
He’s also proud of their younger kiddos. Their boy, Oakland, began to tutor some of the children of Lonesome Flats on how to play Bluegrass with the permission of the parents, of course. As for their lovely daughter, Musa, she followed their Pops' footsteps to become a healer or a survivalist, and Hickory doesn't quite understand the difference between the two, even though they explain it to him countless times.
Hickory was glad their children didn't follow his path of living. His life as a Bounty Hunter isn't a life he wanted his children to go through. He doesn't want any of them to get hurt, bruised, scared, or even lose a piece of them.
After all, their Pa and uncle have a lot of scars on their bodies combined. Hell, their uncle lost a good chunk of his left horn during an old mission of theirs way back then.
As the night was young, the hunters were drinking and laughing with each other; the old hunters talked about their glory days, while the young hunters mostly talked about their greatest bounties.
One of the oldest hunters of the tavern spoke out and asked if they knew any of the grand legend hunters of the past or present of this tavern. This got the hunters talking, as some were naming hunters of the present time like Dalls, Big Iron, and El Mariachi de la Hermana Rosá. However, some of them got too bold and named some of the past, like The Pied Piper and Silver Dollars. Like an adorabull to a red cloth, the hardest-headed group of hunters immediately argued about the legitimacy of the names since there was no history or proof about them. Most of the group argued in a friendly way, causing no bad blood between each other. At the same time, a small portion of the group argued with hostility and started fighting with each other.
Thankfully, most, but not all, were broken apart before something horrible that cannot be undone. It happened once years ago; sadly, the poor fella didn’t have the chance to defend, and now they are with the Muses.
—
Hickory's brother and Rozar's partners are arguing like a couple of pals arguing about the sky's color. As their attention was on each other, they did not notice Hickory and Rozar were talking over their plan once again before going forward without any trouble. It's been too long since Rozar donned his hunter persona, and it will be a blast to see the fear in the eyes of the roughest hunters.
No one had ever seen so grim and ghastly a bounty hunter before, until this fateful or unfaithful night.
“Ya have ‘things’ on hand, kiddo?” Hickory quietly asked.
Rozar raised his hand, giving a thumbs-up to Hickory before getting up from the booth and making his way out of the tavern to dress for his part. Nick noticed Rozar exiting the tavern; he thought nothing of it and continued his playful argument with Hickory's brother. However, Reba spotted a smile on Rozar’s face as he got up from his seat.
Nick saw Reba’s ears twitch as she thought. He knew what she was thinking but decided to ask instead of assuming.
“What’s going on within your lovely mind of yours, my penstemon firecracker?” Nick leaned his head against her shoulder, making sure his antlers wouldn’t poke her eyes.
Reba looked at him with loving eyes and leaned her head against his with a sigh. Compared to each other, Reba is more of an overthinker than he and Rozar combined are. She loves her partners as much as the moon loves the stars in the sky, but she's afraid that one day Rozar will return to his feral form, or Nick will be harmed or even killed by a Roar Beast.
“Mostly wonder ‘bout what’s making Roz so gosh darn happy, my dear,” Reba responded. Her arms folded across her chest.
Before Nick could reply, Hickory rose from his seat and headed towards the middle of the tavern, playing a few warm-up notes from his teal guitar with faded red roses in his hands.
They and Dickory were more than confused about what was going on as Hickory started to play a melody on his guitar. With each step of his metronomic hooves against the wooden floor, the tense energy of the tavern slowly dispersed as some moved to make a path for Hickory to walk through.
With ease, he jumped up on a lone, empty table with a loud strum of his guitar, getting all eyes on him. Nobody dared to say a word until Hickory played an eerie, beginning melody of the grim bounty hunter that no troll nor the bravest hunter had ever seen or heard until now.
—
Gather ‘round so I can tell the tale that only a few who know it is true.
A hunter so silent yet so violent, there are no souls that are brave enough to be near his cold presence.
No melody within his soul, a soul that only belongs to the grim troll reaper. Some say that he was born without a song in his core, no siree. As the years have gone by with each of his bounties, a soul will be lost, as the hunter himself stole the very melodies from their beatin’ cores.
On a quiet yet frightened night, a lucky soul escaped from the scythe. Rushin’ toward the nearest spot to hinder the right-hand troll of the grim troll reaper from findin’ them soul. Behold, their hidin’ spot was an ol’ tavern, all run down and broken just like the hunter’s soul itself. The troll quickly hid within that tavern, waitin’ for the hunter to lose interest in their soul and move along to another unlucky soul.
As they were lucky to have their souls, there were so many who weren’t so fortunate as they. That very tavern was the one that saved their life as it spared their soul from the very Grim Troll reaper.
When the mornin’ sun rose to the sky, the keeper opened the doors of the very tavern that saved the troll from death, who was now leanin’ against the wall with bags underneath their eyes.
The keeper of the tavern moved towards the sleepin’ troll and tried to wake them with a drink and a plate of food to eat.
However, the troll woke up with fears in their eyes that frightened the keeper. The troll cries to the keeper that a horned hunter who wore a deep forest cloak over his dark clothes, as a skull obscured his face. His eyes, which were a pale grey blue, rose as a four-sided thorn for his pupils.
—
Hickory slows the eerie melody down by one beat, causing some of the younger hunters to fear what’s next for the fortunate, yet unfortunate, troll. Even the toughest hunters started to show some uneasiness about what was going to happen next.
—
As the troll cried to the keeper to help them escape from this nightmare. Only for the keeper to sigh his heart out and give the fearful troll a sentence that nobody would ever want to hear.
“Ya are on his list; nowhere is safe for you. Not even this tavern that hides ya from him is goin’ save for the long run—
“Ya better start runnin’ son before moon starts risin’ ‘cause when sun goes down, you'll soul goes down with it."
No questions were asked as the troll bolted out and ran to find a new spot to hide from—
—
Without missing a beat, the tavern's doors swing open, revealing the very bounty hunter from the ballad that Hickory was singing to them. The younger hunters were terrified by the sight of the hunter himself. The most experienced hunters got up from their seats, waiting for him to make a move or anything.
The eerie bounty hunter stood there, staring them down like they were dirt underneath his feet. Then he ducked under the door frame to enter the quiet tavern of scared patrons. The floorboard creaked as he walked toward the bar counter and asked for a shot of straight whiskey, which the keeper gave with shaking hands.
While the eerie bounty hunter was waiting for his glass to be filled, he felt all the uneasiness that was coming from the patrons, and he knew his old eeriness was still working after all these years. His extra height and his horns added to his eeriness, including his new scythe, since his old one brought negative memories back from his very last mission before he became a monster.
A sound of gasps arose as he took his shot of whiskey; it was a sound of gold to the bounty hunter and a signal for him to begin chasing Hickory while scaring the others. He placed the empty shot glass back on the counter, then handed a silver coin as payment for the shot. Before he turned around, his tail quickly flicked toward Hickory to signal him to start running.
Hickory quickly yet quietly got off the table and gave his gifted guitar to his brother while keeping his eyes on ‘The Silent One’ as he walked backward toward the tavern’s doors. His older brother, Dickory, realized quickly that his young brother and their nephew were playing a trick, hell, a prank of sorts.
Before Dickory could ask his brother if the two were playing a trick on the tavern, he was gone before he could. Nick and Reba also realized that the two were playing a prank, but something was different about Rozar’s energy, like it was off-center, and his eyes weren't his own. They were cloudy white, which hid most of his irises and pupils.
The eerie hunter rose from his spot and popped his neck with an audible crack that sent chills up the spines of every hunter. They didn’t have the chance to think as ‘The Silent One’ unsheathed his scythe and moved toward the hunters with lightning speed, with his skull’s mouth hanging open as he let out a frightful screech similar to his normal fry scream.
Everyone immediately jumps up from their chair or stool and bolts toward the doors or hits the floor, including Dickory, Nick, and Reba. Some trip over their feet or hooves and each other as they try to escape the claws of death. Thankfully, none of them were the grim hunter’s prey that night; that belonged to Hickory WillowHeart-Dock, who had already made it to his planned spot, now waiting for Rozar to come and get him.
Then Hickory hears the screams and hollers echo as the hunters run out of the tavern to get away from ‘The Silent One.' Hickory knows screams; however, these screams and hollers aren’t from a fake scare but real fear. He walks away from his spot to see what the commotion is about and sees Rozar smelling for his scent with his scythe’s sharp blade on the ground. Hickory noticed his nephew’s movement was different than before, but his thoughts halted as his hoof lightly tapped a glass bottle, making a tinkling sound that promptly rolled forward a couple of inches.
Hickory’s core went up to his throat as ‘Silent’s’ head snapped toward his direction; his scythe spun upright as he rose tall with his glassy, cloudy eyes locked on him. Hickory’s legs moved on their own as ‘Silent’ let out a rattling hiss and booked it at him, his scythe slightly away from his body.
Hickory dashed as his hooves hit the ground, making the dirt below him billow out with each pounding beat of his core. Close behind, he heard the light yet heavy thumps of the grim hunter, slowly catching up with unnaturally calm breathing that doesn't match the speed they are running at.
He knew that he was going to be the one caught by his nephew, but this was supposed to be for fun, not terrifying. Hickory was beyond glad that the Muses gave the yodeling trolls powerful legs to help them with their terrain and strong horns to defend themselves from danger.
‘Hold on,’ Hickory thought as a plan quickly formed in his mind. “That's it,” he silently says to himself before sliding to a stop and turning around to face the grim hunter, the dirt dancing around him as his vest moves slightly away, then returns to normal. His cattleman’s crease hat covers his face, which has a stoic expression, along with his body language. As ‘Silent’ comes even closer towards him, Hickory holds his ground as he lowers his body and moves his left leg forward. He wasn't afraid of the grim hunter; hell, he wasn't afraid of his feral nephew. From the day he was born, he was always a bounty hunter till he and his older brother continued their journey to the afterlife.
‘Silent’ launched forward with his mouth open, showing his long fangs at his uncle, who in turn moved his body in time to hit him with his right leg right to his left collar bone, causing Rozar to snap out of his trance. A sharp whine escaped his throat as he landed on the hard dirt ground, his scythe clattering to earth right beside his side.
“Ya alright, kit?” Hickory asked with ragged breath.
Rozar slowly raised his shaking hand, giving his uncle a thumbs up, and quickly moved it to his left arm as he carefully got up to his wobbly legs.
Hickory moved to his side to help him up after grabbing his weapon and holding on to it as they walked towards the open yet now empty street.
“Sorry about that, kiddo,” Hickory apologized to Rozar.
‘It’s all good, Uncle Hick,’ Rozar signed with his right hand, the warmth in his eyes contrasting with the stark skull mask.
He moved his hand back to his hurt collarbone, which is almost done healing but taking its sweet time doing it.
Hickory chuckles as he shakes his head in disbelief at his nephew's response.
“Heh, ya know, Roz, I have to give it to ya; you frightened me back there, especially the folks back there at the tavern,” Hickory expressed as Rozar drew up real fear from the so-called tough-skinned bounty hunters.
Rozar’s eyes show confusion and genuine surprise that he actually gave his “hard to scare” uncle a fright of their lives.
Hickory chuckles even louder at his nephew's expression, which made him laugh softly along.
Rozar's core was warm with pride as his bounty hunter persona scared the living melodies out of every troll.
—
It was a longer walk to WillowHeart-Dock’s home and Reba’s folk home than expected, but that didn't rain on their parade as they talked about the faces of their pals as Rozar relived his grim hunter persona.
Then, out of the darkness, a sound of someone clapping very slowly caused the two to be on high alert and stand back to back with their ears and eyes darting to see who was clapping especially slowly.
It didn't take long for her to reveal herself to them. Her appearance caused Rozar to quietly snap back to his hunter mindset without his control and Hickory to be on high alert, making sure she wasn't going to fight him or his nephew.
“Well, well, I'll be, the ol’ billy goat and a yellow-belly of a hunter,” the country troll snarled at them, her amber-red hair and dark violet-blue tail. Her jasper eyes narrowed at the sight of 'Silent,' who was staring back at her with hate.
“Shut it, Dalls'. He ain't a cowardly hunter like ya are!” Hickory bucked back at her with his head leaning forward, showing his horns off as he stood tall in front of his nephew.
Dalls’ face twisted in annoyance, her ears pinned back as her right foreleg lifted.
“Oh, pull your horns in, ya yodelin' fool!” She snapped back, slamming down her raised foreleg with irritation.
Hickory’s brows drew closer as he snorted and slowly reared his horns back, but he didn't want to fully relax.
“If y'all notice my absence at tonight's get-together, then good for ya,” Dalls started as she began to corral the two like a hungry coyote as she stared at ‘Silent’ as if she were trying to get a read on him.
"Because I got a wager on ya and won tha’ wager, which I ain't gonna sell out,” she continued, studying 'Silent.'
“That means ya and I are gonna fight for the title of Grand Legend tomorrow at high noon." Dalls stopped in front of the grim hunter, staring hard.
Hickory started to get worried about Rozar since he didn't make a move towards The Flame of Lonestar, her bounty title that was given to her by her hometown. Dallas paused for a moment, waiting for any of them to react to her callout.
“When the sun rises high of tomorrow 'noon,' "I ain't gonna hold back my buckin’” Dalls’ says, venom-filled words towards the two.
‘Silent' continued to stare at her, but his brows drew slightly. The only emotion he showed during this whole ordeal was that Dalls accepted with a crooked grin. With nothing to add, she tipped her clipped-brim hat and walked away without looking back.
Hickory let go of his held breath. “Glad she's gone, huh, Roz?” he said, relieved.
He looked at his nephew, still staring ahead but not in the same direction that Dalls went. His worries began to rise more as Rozar stood very still and stayed eerily quiet.
“Kit, ya doin' good?” Hickory worriedly asked. He placed down his nephew's weapon on the ground and was about to reach out to his skull.
The Grim Troll-reaper reacted fast to his motion and grabbed Hickory's hand with a strong grip, almost breaking it. Hickory hissed in pain and slightly knelt down to ease the pain.
“God dammit, Kit. What was tha’ fo—" Hickory cried out in pain before locking his eyes on his nephew’s to see nothing behind them as the Grim Hunter let out a rumbling growl.
Hickory didn't have a chance to do anything when the Grim Hunter picked him up with his nearly fractured hand and slammed him on the ground, knocking him out cold. His glowing eyes were the last thing Hickory remembers.
The Grim Hunter stared before walking to his scythe and picking it up with his now healed left hand, and then he placed his scythe back in its sheath. His glowing eyes looked down at the unconscious troll and decided to drag him by his horn towards the nearest building, leaving him there for some troll to find him.
The Silent One has returned, but this time he isn't being controlled by Rozar anymore.