(All characters are 18 years old or older.)
Rolf knelt in the brush. His powerful chest moved slowly as he controlled his breathing. He had to be still and quiet, his prey stood across the field unknowingly exposing itself. He listened to its snorts as it moved, occasionally grazing on roots or grass. It was a Stonetusk boar and it was huge, almost six feet long and four feet tall. Its dark red leathery skin was thick like armor, six jagged tusks in pairs along its snout were among the sharpest the wild lands.
The hunting party would eat well, if he could kill it. He'd been learning to hunt for years, now after surviving nineteen winters, he felt...no he knew, he was ready for this. He had chosen his prey well. While others his age chose beasts that were more dangerous and thus needed greater weapons like bows and spears to kill, Rolf only needed his knife. That alone would earn him respect in his tribe, or so he hoped. Bows and spears were the weapons of men, boys used knives, or were supposed to. He would work for this kill, he would earn his manhood, he would earn the right to use a spear, just like his father and grandfather.
His body was six feet tall, broad shouldered, and thick with muscle, like many other boys his age. He was in no danger of being seen, despite his size he could hide well. Still, he lowered himself further, feeling the end of his twelve inches of soft cock brush the grass. Like all boys of the tribe completing their rituals, Rolf was naked.
His usual dark hair was shorter than he liked, having not grown back yet from his first ritual, the walk through the burning pool. Its waters burned the hair from your body, the experience was painful but required of boys and girls before entering adulthood. He didn't care for how short it was so he shaved his head completely.
Rolf could still feel the sting of the memory. He had waded through the water, the river deep enough to almost submerge him. Ritual demanded he kept his eyes close and trust his sense of direction and instincts. He almost panicked but felt the ground rise with each step and sighed with relief. The water still burned him even as he walked out of it, his body naked and reddened from whatever was in the pool. He found his mother on the shore with buckets of good water.
She bathed him, removing all of the burning liquid from her son. That's when his father approached beaming with pride and presented him with two Alna to pleasure him. An Alna was a female well into marrying age who had proven herself barren, inflexible. When a woman became an Alna she devoted herself to learning every way to pleasure both man and a woman.
These two Rolf recognized as friends of his mother. Women his father had taken several times. They were incredible and Rolf lay on the bank enjoying the Alna's sexual skills until well into the night.
As with all boys and girls in the tribe, at the "age of choosing" Rolf moved from the large communal tent into his parents tent. It was a wide thing, lightly furnished with furs and simple tools, it may have seemed thin for a hide tent but that was so all outside could clearly hear the sex going on inside.
Rolf didn't mind, he was actually proud to have parents so sexually active. From the first night he moved in he fell asleep to the sounds of their loud and aggressive fucking. Soon after, Rolf's father began teaching him how to really be a man with lessons on sex and physical pleasure. Rolf's mother was eager to provide Alna for him to "practice" with or be with him in bed.
After that started he never spent a night alone. His parents often joked he'd impregnate a dozen Alna before he completed his trials of manhood. Rolf took it as both joke and a challenge, trying very hard every night to make the joke a reality. Months of vigorous effort seemed saw him fail that particular challenge.
Rolf's memories of his sexual education faded and he returned to the beast in front of him. Now it was the hunt, he would stalk and kill a beast to provide for his tribe. He had waited his turn like every other boy, volunteering to go last. No one ever wanted to go last, it was considered unlucky, Rolf hoped it would earn him respect within the tribe, knowing he'd be hunting something simple, a beast they hunted regularly.
The hunt would last a week, every day more boys tried to stalk and kill their chosen prey, most succeeded, this time every boy Rolf's age had. The goal was to be selected for the third and final trial. At the end of the week long ritual the hunt master would chose three boys to undertake the final ritual, choosing a wife and mating before the tribe. Normally the chosen were the boys who had the most impressive kills.
The boar wasn't an "impressive" or dangerous choice. It wasn't guaranteed to earn him that spot, others had claimed greater beasts of the forest and even one showing impressive skill with a bow taking down a Great Roc.
'Patience' his father cautioned. "It's about more than just your kill, show you're thinking of what's best for the tribe." Easy for him to say, when he was Rolf's age he downed a Cragcat almost twice his size, he still wore the beasts hide during ceremonies, having gifted the teeth to the woman he'd take as a wife and fuck that very night then every night after.
Its bones made for strong tools, its meat fed the hunting party for days, its claws were some of the most prized knives and spear tips gifted to the greatest hunters. Only the finest craftsmen were permitted to sharpen and shape them into the weapons they'd become, the claws of a Cragcat were very rare.
Rolf was thinking of the tribe with this prey. Its tusks were sharp and good as blades, its hide was thick and excellent for clothing or tents. Its meat would feed the hunting party for the entire walk home. It wasn't a dangerous choice but it would provide for the tribe and most importantly, make him look like a good provider to 'her'.
