I
paused and listened to the reeds rustling in the evening breeze, just
above the crack of footsteps over dry grass. My heart raced, and I threw
myself down into the tall, brown depths of the thicket to pray It
hadn't brought the hounds.
Moments passed as the steps grew louder.
Thoughts of my brothers galloped through my mind. The last I saw of them was blood on a tree trunk, years ago after the peal of thunder rang out from the intruder's rifle. I ran from my home that night, and It did not follow then.
But now It had come. Now It would try to end me too, and feast on my bones for days in the hovel at the edge of the wood. I knew what the monster did with us when It caught us. I knew the last of my kin were ash in a pit somewhere behind the hills.
I knew the risks, and yet I tread Its grounds the same.
My plan was simple. I baited It out with a tap on the window, and It leapt from the chair with rifle in hand as though It had been waiting. It must have recognized me as the survivor of Its massacre, for all the anger burning on Its face. It followed me out between the sacred trees, and I prayed It hadn't taken the time to open the doors on the nearby kennels.
No hounds tracked me as I lay hidden in the grass and waited. No teeth followed the scent of my fear through the waving reeds and bit down on my flanks. I watched the killer enter the field through blades of dancing brown, Its face a mask of rage as It swung the cannon left and right. Moonlight serves as Its only guide as It strode through the thicket to court death.
But the forest itself had guided me.
The intruder passed me, deaf somehow to the drum beating in my chest. I held my breath and watched It take two steps, three steps, five steps past my position before I rose and charged It with my antlers down. I felt Its pink flesh give beneath my glorious points. The cannon fired against my left ear, singing my fur with its heat, but it was too late.
The killer crumpled on the horns my ancestors gave me, and It sank into the ground when I pulled them out. The rifle flew away, thrown by my vengeance and carried on the autumn wind into the reeds beyond reach. I met Its gaze in silence as the light drained from Its eyes. It passed without another sound, just as my brothers did.
Finally the Hunter had paid Its debt to my people, and the forest would drink of Its blood for weeks.
Then a crack rang out, and lantern light spilled into the thicket from the tree line. Another had come.
I grinned and threw myself down into the grass, feigning death to draw the new one closer. The forest already told me more would arrive in the following season. I will meet them all in turn. Beware if you arrive among them:
Not all of us will rest in peace.
Moments passed as the steps grew louder.
Thoughts of my brothers galloped through my mind. The last I saw of them was blood on a tree trunk, years ago after the peal of thunder rang out from the intruder's rifle. I ran from my home that night, and It did not follow then.
But now It had come. Now It would try to end me too, and feast on my bones for days in the hovel at the edge of the wood. I knew what the monster did with us when It caught us. I knew the last of my kin were ash in a pit somewhere behind the hills.
I knew the risks, and yet I tread Its grounds the same.
My plan was simple. I baited It out with a tap on the window, and It leapt from the chair with rifle in hand as though It had been waiting. It must have recognized me as the survivor of Its massacre, for all the anger burning on Its face. It followed me out between the sacred trees, and I prayed It hadn't taken the time to open the doors on the nearby kennels.
No hounds tracked me as I lay hidden in the grass and waited. No teeth followed the scent of my fear through the waving reeds and bit down on my flanks. I watched the killer enter the field through blades of dancing brown, Its face a mask of rage as It swung the cannon left and right. Moonlight serves as Its only guide as It strode through the thicket to court death.
But the forest itself had guided me.
The intruder passed me, deaf somehow to the drum beating in my chest. I held my breath and watched It take two steps, three steps, five steps past my position before I rose and charged It with my antlers down. I felt Its pink flesh give beneath my glorious points. The cannon fired against my left ear, singing my fur with its heat, but it was too late.
The killer crumpled on the horns my ancestors gave me, and It sank into the ground when I pulled them out. The rifle flew away, thrown by my vengeance and carried on the autumn wind into the reeds beyond reach. I met Its gaze in silence as the light drained from Its eyes. It passed without another sound, just as my brothers did.
Finally the Hunter had paid Its debt to my people, and the forest would drink of Its blood for weeks.
Then a crack rang out, and lantern light spilled into the thicket from the tree line. Another had come.
I grinned and threw myself down into the grass, feigning death to draw the new one closer. The forest already told me more would arrive in the following season. I will meet them all in turn. Beware if you arrive among them:
Not all of us will rest in peace.
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