Lost for Words

Primal Needs

Golden Hair squatted in the bushes that grew around the edge of the watering hole, peering out through a gap in the leaves. He had been here since dawn. Waiting. Watching. Now he was hungry and tired; the noontime heat was overwhelming. It surely would not matter if he closed his eyes for a heartbeat ... ?

Sound. Motion. Golden Hair shook himself awake and groped for his throwing stick. There - on the far side of the pool - something was coming through the undergrowth. Despite his thirst, Golden Hair's mouth began to salivate at the though of fresh meat. Quietly, so as not to startle whatever was there, Golden Hair flexed his limbs.

It was one of the herd animals that roamed the forest. Golden Hair recognised it: a fast runner, but stupid. It and its kin were easy to surprise and kill. But, if alerted, it could easily outrun even the fastest hunter in the tribe. Golden Hair knew he would have to be cunning. He waited until the creature approached the waterhole and lowered its head to drink. Swiftly, seizing his chance, Golden Hair leapt from his hiding place and threw his stick. The long, polished piece of wood flew straight towards the creature - but not quickly enough! The stick hit the animal, point first, but the wound was not fatal. The animal turned and ran, Golden Hair's weapon buried deep in its flank.

Golden Hair was furious! His prey was escaping! This would mean no meat for his mate Beautiful and their children. Worse - Golden Hair would have lost his throwing stick! Howling in rage, he ran after the animal.

Meat! Stick! Beautiful! Golden Hair's pursuit of the creature was not easy. True - the thick growth around the waterhole hampered the animal's flight; but it also slowed Golden Hair. Branches whipped at him; thorns tore at his skin as he pushed through the living maze. Meanwhile, the creature blundered on ahead, bleating in pain and fear. Despite it all - because of it all! - Golden Hair continued his pursuit.

Meat! Stick! Beautiful! Golden Hair was relentless. He ignored the many cuts he had suffered, the burning agony in his limbs, until - there!

The creature had stopped, caught on a bush. Golden Hair's throwing stick had become tangled in the branches and pinned the animal, stopping its headlong rush. It could not go forward. It could not go back. It was trapped. It would be easy to kill.

Golden Hair licked his lips and his stomach rumbled in anticipation of the feast to come.