A direhorn! Little Talak thinks he's got the rocks to tame a direhorn.
I tried to convince him a raptor would be fine. A beast caller with a good sturdy raptor - that's a good life. Commands a lot of respect. Raptors take naturally to the spirits. I think it's their brains. Smart. You can tell by the way they watch you.
But no, Talak wants a direhorn. Carved the sigils into his arm with one of the ceremonial horns, then spoke to the great bestial loa we brought aboard the ship with us. He drank the wild draught, wore the twin-tusk mask, and roared with the inner voice. The spirits are with this one. They like strength, yes, but sometimes they flock toward courage.
So! I helped Talak, frail as he is. I spoke to my spirits. The old loa Grimath, who entered my chest as a child, who guided my hand when I bent the neck of my own direhorn. I drank deep from the well of blood, saw the furies in the air, and whispered Talak's name.
He's on the Isle of Giants now. Little Talak. Not so little anymore. He'll come back a hero or not at all. Spirits be with him.