As they waited for their meal, The hunter imparted some knowledge of his craft, asking questions here and there to tailor his explanations and analogies to Calf's current level of understanding. Calf used to consider the Warden and their ranging instructors the best of the best but there couldn't be a comparison with the Hunter. Right now, it felt like he'd learnt more in minutes of conversation with the Hunter than he'd been able to learn from the scrolls and the formal lessons he'd attended, granted, they were few but still. He was awed to the point he no longer doubted the man was who he claimed to be. As they conversed the Hunter would occasionally prod and flip the parcel he'd wrapped up and placed over the spine at the spit.

The topics switched from tracking prey to sensing and avoiding predators. He asked Calf about how he'd tracked and engaged the rooster and gave him pointers on how he could have avoided falling into the confrontation. There was going to be a confrontation either way if Calf was bent on completing what he'd set out to do, but it could've been on better terms. Beyond that the Hunter also made a reference to the importance of names in this subject as well, reminding him of 'the weight of a name'. To drive the point home, he asked Calf to provide as many names for the rooster as he could think of. He got a few minutes to think it over before being prompted to answer.

Calf had given it a lot of thought and managed to come up with four names he supplied in order of accuracy:

Blackened Cock-erel of water, wind, and fire Silver-hearted Rooster Divine Black Bird Magically seasoned Chicken

The Hunter's jaw slackened slightly as he quirked an eyebrow at the first. He quickly caught himself and schooled his expression in time to sagely nod at the second and third before bursting into a raucous laugh at the last. It was good to know male humor wasn't completely lost on the gods, though the Hunter seemed more partial to food jokes. He ended the bout of laughter with a cough and asked Calf to guess in what order he would've placed the names were the task his. Calf considered for a minute, noting how the Hunter had nodded at the second and third, as well as how he'd preferred the last over the first name. With that, he arrived at the Silver-hearted Rooster, followed by the Divine Black Bird, the Magically seasoned Chicken and lastly, the Blackened Cock(-erel) of water, wind, and fire. The Hunter confirmed the first but surprisingly he was way off on the rest. The Hunter had chosen the Cock as the second on his list and the divine black bird as his last.

He explained his preferences based on motive and perspective. Being in the position of a predator he was inclined to go by his prey's weaknesses and though he'd left the rest unsaid, Calf inferred by virtue of his own weakness he was inclined to look at things from a prey's perspective, ever weary of a predator's strengths. That stung a bit, but he would make the best of the analysis and learn from it.

While we are on the topic of predators..., Calf thought. He doubted there were many, if any predators out there that could frighten the Hunter and the thought reminded him of the River King. Would the Hunter be able to best the prodigious reptile? He'd grown fond of the crocodile and didn't want to see any permanent harm fall on him, but he drove that fear away with reality. A First would more than likely already know of such a formidable monster, so asking wouldn't provoke the Hunter to set his eyes on it if it weren't already his prey. He also remembered how the patterning on the River King's brow resembled the markings on the Hunter's face, suspecting it to be more than a coincidence. When he made to voice his thoughts, a familiar weight settled over him but this time it did not let up once it had him on all fours. It continued to drive him into the ground as he held the thought, only letting up when he was too busy struggling against the pressure to think.

The Hunter offered a hand and lifted Calf to his feet the moment he accepted it. He dusted Calf off before sitting back down. He prodded the cooking meat and fanned the coals once before turning a serious eye towards Calf. He couldn't help staring back and it felt like gazing into the infinite, the depths of those eyes unknown. He shook his head to clear the daze only to notice he'd been staring into the distance for some time now. The hunter now stood on the other side of the spit now, all the cubes already removed to a carpet of chicken skin laid out on the ground. He speared the parcel still perched on the makeshift spit and pointed it toward Calf, gesturing for him to take it. Calf approached the proffered parcel and attempted to unwrap it, but the Hunter gestured for him to consume it as is. He obliged, taking a generous bite out of the parcel and marveling at how it melted in his mouth.

Had he not seen how the parcel had been assembled he couldn't have guessed what had gone into it. The Hunter had taken the liver, bile duct and all, and folded it over a thin slice from the gizzard. He'd wrapped all of that in a thin layer of chicken skin before tying it up in a bow using a thin outer strip from the silver passage. Luke had bitten into it generously in hopes of swallowing before he could taste any of it. He'd anticipated a kick from the bile, but he couldn't even taste a hint of it in the melting goodness of the initial bite. The consecutive bites were slower and more appreciative, and it wasn't until his last bite that he could feel, more than taste, a change.

It started with a tingle in his toes that zinged its way to his spine, playing electric notes on its way to his head. A massive pressure suddenly built up in his head till it felt too heavy to support on his shoulders. He found himself buckling for the fourth time today, but the Hunter caught him by the waist before he could even bend at the knees. He stuck his spear into the ground, point-up, and let Calf go. Calf noted that the spear had shrunken to the point it only reached up to his chest while planted. His mind quickly switched to panic as he registered his trajectory. If he couldn't pull himself together in time, the momentum of his fall would impale him on the spear. He ignored the doubts whether he'd be able to make it and willed his arm to action. Arm veins bulged and steam rose from his head and right arm as he coaxed the arm up to cover his chest. He wouldn't mind losing it if the sacrifice would preserve him long enough to lean his chest away from the waiting spear.

He got it up in time to support his chest on the braced forearm but doing this had taken all the strength he'd had, and his body refused to respond further. One second ticked by, then a second and a third and Calf was confused on how his descent had been halted without so much as a scratch. After a minute in the braced position, the weakness began to ebb, and Calf managed to push off the spear-point to stand upright. Back on his feet, he inspected his right arm which had previously been inundated by the rooster's flames during their fatal struggle. The burns had forced him to improvise medical care, salving and wrapping it up in whatever he'd had at hand. He'd hoped the salve would help with combating any chances of infection whilst the membranes would provide some separation between his body and the shrunken strips that were likely to adhere to his skin without it. He'd been so overjoyed in his success that he'd completely forgotten about the wraps in the aftermath.

That had been a blessing in disguise seeing as the wraps had probably saved him. He questioned if he wasn't overplaying their role and wondered if it all had to do with will and intent. The spear had been out of the Hunter's hands so maybe it was special enough to only cut what he intended for it to cut. He directed his left hand towards the spear, but the hunter caught it and shook his head. He cracked a long and thin portion from a rib bone still attached to their spit and handed it to Calf. Calf understood the man's intentions and used the bone to test his hypothesis instead. It vibrated the moment it got to within inches of the spear, splintering within centimeters and the splints turned to dust without ever making direct contact with the spear-point.

Calf was shocked and he looked at his right arm in a new light, noticing for the first time how the contiguous strips had morphed into a connected sheet that looked like a second darker layer of skin over his arm. He traced the new 'skin' as far up his arm as he could, noting the texture with a finger and checking for the same texture on his back. The skin over his shoulder blades protruded a bit and the texture remained rougher than that of the skin on his arm, but overall, it felt like his body had assimilated the materials. Judging from his forearm's recent feats the new skin retained its previous properties to an extent.

"The boy becomes a man!" The Hunter boomed as he approached Calf. He clapped Calf's shoulders once before squeezing them in congratulations. Calf accepted the gesture and smiled in response, the joy of the moment threatening to overwhelm him. He couldn't wait to get back and share his joy with the King! He straightened his back and brought his chin up to look the man in the eye. He held the stare for a moment before going to one knee and lowering his head in deference. He clasped his hands into a clam stance in front of him and clapped multiple times as a show of respect and thanks. The Hunter nodded his head and mouthed 'Well met', bending his back and lending an arm to help Calf up. He clapped him once more on the back and turned to his spear. He pulled it out with a smooth motion up, twirling it to shake the dust off it before swinging it once. The gust produced by the swing rocked Calf on his feet and blew away the dust cloud that had gathered above them. The Hunter turned to Calf and officially ended this part of the rites with a mental communication.

"As you are now a man, you should know that this is just the first step of your journey. Do not become complacent but rather strive to surpass all you deem as peers, and beyond that, those you consider your superiors. Traverse the path you've chosen to its very end and be weary of crossroads for there you will meet those that are above 'all', their very wills loosely weaved through the fabric of reality. Those whose identities are oft discovered but never uttered without consequence. When, and not if, you find yourself entangled in their weave proceed with caution, for woven wills tighten before the drawing of their intent."