The Half Breed and The Hunter

Chapter 9

            It was about midday when my stomach growled upsettingly at me for its emptiness. The feeling of hunger nagging my insides like an annoying fly, didn't surprise me because I hadn't had a decent meal for two days from when Atticus brought me the deer. I have been neglecting my appetite lately to my stomach's dismay, since the close encounter with the hunter made my flaming appetite die down into small ember. I also have been afraid I'd run into the hunter again, which also played a part of why I've been hiding in the Den for the rest of yesterday and today.

Not able to ignore my agitated empty stomach, which was equivalent to the feeling of a tiger ripping out my organs with dull claws, here I was running towards Pine Meadows where I was almost guaranteed game. Because of the fresh, grass-filled decently large meadow, many animals in the deer family went there to graze on the vast field. Not only that, but a small pond five meters in diameter also was at the request for any animals wanting to quench their thirst. Pine Meadows was the perfect secluded area for animals to lounge in all day.

The only downside were the men from the village occasionally coming there for a few kills, which kept the animals alert at all times.

My feet pounded softly against the undisturbed soil that was moist with dew, as my legs gracefully jumped over roots protruding from the ground in a perfected fashion.  The wood carving of my wolf grazed comfortingly against the skin around my hip and the cool blade of the hunter's knife pressed lightly on my other side if i ever needed a small, close range weapon.  The leather strap of my finely crafted, deer skin quiver rubbed familiarly along the top of my left shoulder, while seven arrows jerked as the quiver bounced lightly against my back in rhythm to my easy sprint through the forest. Carrying my carved hickory bow in my left hand, the smooth wood pressed against my palm making me feel assured knowing I have a weapon at my disposal if anything were to go wrong.

Not to mention, I have an excellent shot and rarely missed where I intended my arrow to hit.

Trekking through the forest, I was about a kilometer short of Pine Meadows when I slowed my pace down to a brisk walk. Focusing on my senses even more, I couldn't feel, hear or see anything different, so I continued forwards. Stepping over a skinny tree that had fallen over and once squashed the ferns now growing around it, birds swooped down in a friendly manner, curiously chirping at my arrival. Warmth bubbled at the bottom of my heart at their welcoming greeting and I whistled a small tune in reply.

Arriving close to the border of the meadow, I slung my bow over my head and ran towards a thicker branch sticking out above my path. With a small leap, the prickly bark dug into my hands as I gripped the branch and swung myself forward and up from it, landing elegantly on a different limb growing from a tree. Branch after branch, I climbed higher into the assortment of trees around me, all the while making my way closer to the meadow. I'd done it countless times; climb the trees along the perimeter of the clearing, scout for danger and animals, climb back down if it was safe, then hunt from there.

With one last jump onto a Hickory tree branch, I steadied myself while pulling my bow from its slung position and bracing myself against the thick trunk as I observed the quiet clearing.

Pine Meadows was a decent size, shaped much like a curvy circle with many types of tall trees enclosing the private space. The wind blowing through the clearing made the knee length stalks of pale grass bend in unison, swaying with every breath of air. An assortment of colourful wildflowers sprouted around the area, adding splashes of pinks, yellows, violets and blues to the yellowish hue of the landscape caused by the sunlight streaming in. The endearing, strong smell of pine tainted with sweet sap from all the different types of trees was a nice change from the mossy, earthy scent hovering around the forest floor.