The start of a beautiful friendship by Aprilertuile

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The plan

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The next day they returned to their task, and Tyelkormo indeed tracked down the deer that Yarlossë wanted him to find successfully, avoiding, by luck perhaps, all kinds of mishap. 

He hadn’t seen again the great hound of the previous day, sadly. 

However, as they were on their way back to the Hunting Lodge, Tyelkormo couldn’t help but think back about that magnificent creature. 

The Hound had a coat of shiny silky fur, or so it had seemed under the light of Laurelin. He had looked powerful, sure of himself, clever in the way he fought that cat. 

But the look in the hound’s eyes when he noticed them.

It was unfair that such a magnificent creature lived with so much disdain for elves. 

Ah, who was he kidding?! Disdain wasn’t the right word. Perhaps it was fear. Perhaps it was hatred, wariness certainly, but disdain? No.

Once they arrived back at the lodge, Yarlossë left him as he was sent on a mission. Whatever it was, the elf didn’t tell Tyelkormo, though a quarter of the Hunt left with him, so it must have been quite something. He hoped that upon their hopefully safe return, he’d get the story. 

In the meantime, he knew his own duty, though he confirmed with the maia in charge of the guests what he would do in the absence of his teacher.  

At the end of the second day after he went back to camp, Tyelkormo went back to the maia in charge of the guests, Tilion: 

“Say, can I bother you a moment?”

“Of course, Child. I’m here for that after all.”

Tyelkormo adored Tilion, the maia was always such a cheerful and welcoming personality… 

“So, I wanted to know if I could wander the woods alone?”

Tilion frowned at that. 

“Why?”

“There are things I want to see. I promise to be careful. I can even leave most of my weapons here if you want.”

“What thing?”

“Well, animals mainly, admittedly.”

Tilion raised an eyebrow at that and Tyelkormo looked sheepish. 

“Very well. Do keep your weapon but if you do use them I want to know when and I want to know why. You will not hunt without informing the rest of us.”

“I promise.”

“Well, Yarlossë said you were shaping up to be a good hunter, so do what you will. But be careful! I don’t want to hear of any… Incident.” Tilion said quietly but in a voice that carried a world of warning. 

“I promise. No incident, just me wandering around Oromë’s woods hopefully safely enough.”

“Good. And if you find traces of something that shouldn’t be there, warn us. Don’t try to take on something on your own that you aren’t equipped to face.”

Tyelkormo nodded quietly: he would because he really didn’t want to be banned from the woods, for sheer stupidity. He knew it could happen, someone has been thrown out already earlier in the season.

So that day, as soon as his chores were done, he left the Lodge, going in a random direction. Looking for tracks, anything really, that’d give him an idea of where to go.  

He wanted to see that dog again. He wouldn’t bother it obviously but... 

He had taken food that could be shared with a dog without making them sick and if he wanted it, the magnificent creature would get its share of it. Perhaps he’d accept at least an offering? Just so he could catch a glimpse of him again. 

Tyelkormo tried his best to track the creature.

He sadly returned at night, having had no luck on his self-decided mission, though he did come back with a handful of plants that he wanted to study. 

Plants that made Tilion look at him sideways:

“You are NOT eating those.”

“Obviously not. But I want to know what they are.” Tyelkormo answered with a smile. 

Tilion sighed but called another hunter to teach Tyelkormo who… Put the leaves in his notebook, where he took notes of the plants in question. 

The hunter looked amused at his doing but…: “You know that others did the same but always the  news came that no one accepted to copy books with dangerous plants described within.”

Tyelkormo smiled at that, entirely at peace with the idea. Those elves who tried before clearly didn’t know his father. He knew that whatever notebook he took back home would be given a place in the library if he wished it. 

His father never found any knowledge useless, and welcomed everything in his library, be it at home or in Formenos. 

Some of the books his family possessed were things that would see Finwë shout of rage at him about living in the present and the necessity of letting painful experiences of the past disappear, forgotten for the peace of his people as a whole. Or about keeping dangerous knowledge at hand. Finwë was strange like that when he wanted to. He didn’t seem to grasp that his discourse on such matters was precisely why Fëanáro hoarded all sorts of knowledge. 

Anyway, Tyelkormo would certainly not be the one to enlighten him on the matter. 

But one day turned into two, into three, into four. 

He caught not a hint of the presence of the Hound. 

Until he got the idea to ask a bird. Yarlossë was teaching him the basics of communication with birds after all, it might as well serve, even if most of the birds he has talked with so far were spectacular air-heads. 

And it seemed to work. He was directed to another side of the Wood. A good couple of hours away from where he was, and he came within sight of the Hound who growled upon seeing him. 

“Wait. For you. I have this. It’s… Thanks. For killing the great cat the other day. I’ll leave that here, beautiful.” Tyelkormo called before the hound could leave. 

And indeed he put some of the dried meat on a rock at his feet before leaving in a run, happy to have found the animal again. 

He didn’t see it, but the Hound blinked at that and tilted his head, considering. 

He didn’t take the offering, but watched carefully as a fox had no such restraint, and ate it… And was fine. He followed it a while, but it seemed the dried meat had been just that, and not a trap. 

And as the hound had thought the matter was over with that offering, he was surprised to note that the young hunter came back, finding him almost every day throughout the rest of the season, and always leaving him something when their path crossed. At first the offerings were mostly dried meat, and then actually a mix of fresh meat, heart, which he adored, thought he wasn’t going to let the impertinent invasive brat know that, cooked meat and dried meat.