It's Hunting Time

Predator or Prey?

It is such a cold night with the howling wind and the freezing snow, but even with the cold the man is outside. He walks as quietly as he can along an icy path before he freezes and looks between the branches of the trees. I knew this man. He had been stalking me for the past several hours. Hunting for me.

I stay where I am hunkered between the bushes with the snow surrounding and clinging to me. I stay as still as I can and wait for the man to move on.

Once he does, I still don’t move. If I did there was a chance he would hear me shifting among the branches. After I was positive the man can no longer hear me, I slink out from under the bushes and follow his trail. Now, it was my turn to stalk him.

As I follow his trail, I give a wolfish smile. The feel of the hunt, the excitement of the chase, the strange bond between predator and prey. It was all about to begin.

After following his trail for a few miles, I come to a frozen river. I give a low growl. Frozen rivers are not good, particularly for me. I crouch to the ground and look for prints in the snow. I take a deep breath, sniffing for any sign of the man.

I growl again. Nothing. Perhaps he had crossed the river. I lean close to the ice and sniff it. I try to pick up any trace of the man, but I am not sure if there was a smell. I step away from the ice and look into the dark forest. I don’t see anything, except for the dark shadows and the heavy greens.

I look around me, but my eyes see are a jumble of the white snow, black shadows of the tress, shady green leaves, and the dark blue sky.

Where is the man? I keep stepping away from the river, suddenly the thrill of hunting doesn’t seem so appealing. My eyes dart from shadow to shadow, trying to catch a glimpse of anything. I can’t hear anything, just the soft shush of the snow falling. A sharp pine scent fills my nose. And then an overwhelming smell of man.

I turn around and there he is, standing behind me. A long hunting knife in hand. He gives a large grin and starts running towards me.

I can’t go back. The frozen river is behind me, and it can’t support my weight. If I try to retreat to the forest, the man would kill me with his knife.

“I got you now, Monstrous Beast.” The man gives a large grin and prepares to throw the knife.

I glare at him and pull myself up to my full height. I am not going down without a fight. I stare back at the man in the eye and roar.

---

The man looked down at the young boys next to the fireplace and grinned. His dog stretched and barked contentedly. The boys ignored the dog and waited for the man to finish his story.

“The Beast was huge.” The man said, “He had matted and scraggily fur, his teeth were as white as the snow he stood on. And his roar was as loud as when thunder cracks. But when he saw me, I saw the fear flash in his eyes. But then he stood up. The Monstrous thing stood up to his full height and roared.”

They gasped, but the man didn’t stop, “He saw the knife in my hand and knew that it was over. But he wasn’t going down without a fight. I knew that this beast would tear me to shreds if I even showed an ounce of fear. I knew that this thing could have killed me if I hadn’t outsmarted it.

“The Beast charged at me first and I had no choice, but to draw first blood. I cut his muzzle, and he snapped at my hand. I stumbled back almost losing my footing. The Beast saw his opportunity and charged again, but I wasn’t going to let him get the best of me. He leaped at me, and I rolled barely missing his huge paw with five long claws each one as long as my single knife.

“I scrambled up and grabbed its matted fur. I was dead if I didn’t kill the creature first. I clung to its fur, wrapping my hands in it, and holding on for my life as the Beast clawed and scratched at my hands and legs. The blood was oozing out of me, after only a few minutes. My hands were hurting, my feet were cold and dripping with blood. And I could feel my skin prickling as the wind blew.

“I wrestled my hand with the knife free of the Beasts fur. It roared and growled, and tried to shake me off. It snapped at my hands, before it started running towards the trees. The wind was sharper than ever. The twigs and branches cut at my face. But I held on. I couldn’t die.

“I held on with my one hand and stabbed the Beast. It roared like nothing I had ever heard before. So loud snow fell from the branches of the trees. I stabbed again, but the matted fur was tightly knotted. My knife couldn’t get through. I was dead, if I couldn’t get to the creature’s jugular. I could already feel my hand slipping. My feet slick with blood. The wind tearing at my skin.

“I started desperately cutting with the knife. Chopping away the matted fur, cutting at the scraggly hairs. I couldn’t hold on any longer, I stabbed the Beast as hard as I could and slipped off its back, pulling the knife out of its body.

“The thing stumbled a little ways away, before coming back and looking at me. I saw the blood still coming off its muzzle, and I saw my blood spattered on its side. And I saw a large gash dripping with blood. The Monstrous Beast took a step, before it collapsed. Dead.”

   

The Hunter and the Hunted

There was a stink in the air. A stink of death. But I was used to it. After all, I live in a place where death doesn’t matter. If you die, you die. And what a shame that is, because you should have known better. Danger is everywhere in these woods. Especially in these woods. Vicious beasts that roar; tiny, parasitic creatures that eat you alive, and silent animals that you would never want to see.

I slip out into the night and glance around. There were several other nocturnal creatures that live near me, but it seemed that I am out late. I walk through the woods, wary of every snap, crinkle, and rustle I hear. It wasn’t far to my hunting grounds, but anything can happen in a few miles.

I sniff the air for any sign of a beast, like I do every night before going off to hunt, but I smell nothing. I keep to the shadows, listening for any hunters. You can never be too cautious, particularly in woods like these. I continue on my way, but there is a haunting feeling following me. Just like how a predator haunts its prey, before it attacks.

I slow to a stop, and sniff the air again. But all I smell is the scent of pine, mixed with dirt and moss. I lower myself to the ground and try to hide within the shadows. My eyes search the darkening shadows, but I don’t see anything. I sniff the air again trying to catch any whiff of….

But then the wind shifts and the faint smell of mist tickles my nose. I know that smell and it is a haunting kind of smell. The intake is like rolling in the grass on a warm evening, but the exhale is like a stinging scratch across your face. I don’t make a sound, and hope the hunter won’t find me.

The words my dad had told me before sending me out echo in my head. Keep still. Keep breathing. Keep hidden. I took a quiet breath and froze. But my heart would not stay calm. I could feel it pounding in my chest, reverberating through the ground, and echoing out into the forest. Telling the hunter exactly where to find me.

But I don’t panic. Panicking is what gets you killed, at least, that’s what my Aunt says. The smell gets stronger, and a burning starts to appear in my nose. I try ignore it, but then soft footsteps approached my hiding spot.

When you’re discovered run, that’s what my mom told me. But am I discovered yet? Did the hunter find me?

“Where are you, little creature. I know you’re here somewhere.” The hunter pauses.

I hold my breath. He is right in front of me. Any move would kill me, and what a shameful thing for me.

“Are you a burrower?” The hunter asks. I see his knees start to bend, and I fly out of my hiding spot, shooting past the hunter. I glimpse him as I shoot past him, and I nearly trip and kill myself.

It was a Messenger. A mythical hunter who isn’t even considered a hunter by some animals, but to my kind they are the death of us. At least, that’s what The Myth said. The Myth all Andiesen tell their children. The Messenger, a heartless hunter, who slaughters us. A hunter who can warp the senses and kill you without you even knowing.

I run past my hunting ground and past the stream I bathe myself in. I don’t stop to catch my breath. I don’t stop for anything. I can’t stop to see if he’s right behind me. I can’t trust my senses. I can’t hear if he’s behind me. And suddenly, I can’t smell him. The burning in my nose is gone, and the woods are silent.

I slow to a walk, and take a deep breath. I look behind me and the Messenger is gone. I take another deep breath and look up. My breath catches and I freeze. He is staring straight at me.

“Hello, little creature,” The Hunter says, drawing his bow and arrow. “This won’t hurt as long as you don’t move.”

I crouch to the ground and prepare to run, but see something moving behind him. I stare at behind him, hoping it’s something that could help me. Instead large black wings appear from behind him.

Why weren't wings mentioned in the myth? The hunter smiles, “Looks like you’re outmatched, little creature. Say good-bye to your forest.”

---

The boys clapped and whistled at the end of the man’s story.

“That was so cool.” One of the boys said, “Got another story?”

Before the man could speak, a voice interrupted him, “My kind sir, I hate to suggest that you are exaggerating your story, but this “monster” you’re describing, it wouldn’t happen to be a Kytmando?”

“It most certainly was not.” The man said, standing to his feet, facing the stranger, “You don’t know what you’re talking about Messenger. You’re not even a real hunter. Not with that sissy bow and arrow you carry around.”

The Messenger gave a sly smile, “Oh, I believe I do, dear sir. But you boys should know a Kytmando is no bigger than the size of that dog.” He pointed to the dog laying by the fire. Slightly bigger than 2 feet tall.

A boy snorted, “Well, that’s embarrassing.”

The Messenger laughed, “Why don’t I tell you a story of a real beast.”

“Oh, don’t tell that story with the Andiesen.” The man groaned.

“Why not I thought you loved that story?” The Messenger gave a wicked smile.

“Just hurry up, demon.” The man said.

“Well, boys, it was a cold nigh with a soft breeze was blowing. I was out hunting like normal, when I felt a steady pulse coming from the ground. I followed the pulse, guessing it was just some mystical creature, but as I got closer the pulse felt familiar. As the pulse got stronger a sensation started for form along my wings.

“They started quivering, and I knew an Andiesen had wandered onto my hunting path. I knelt down and it burst out of the undergrowth. It’s white fur a blur, but its black eyes met mine in a challenge.

“I chased it down the path. Its white fur obvious among the darkness of the trees. I gave a flap of my wings and shot up into the sky, following the creature. I could see it from above running through the trees, and when it ran past its own kind, I knew I had it.

“The creature slowed to a stop, and I landed right in front of it. It looked at me with black eyes and a foaming mouth. Its black teeth and fangs were sharp and ready to sink into my skin. Its large body was low to the ground with every muscle tight.

“I drew my bow and the creature sprung at me. I shot my arrow, but it went wide and crazed its side. It landed on top of me, claws outstretched. It tore at my shirt. I screamed so loudly the woods shook. I tried to push the creature off, but it bit my arm. I used my free hand and grabbed my hunting knife.

“I stabbed it into the creature’s side. The creature didn’t make a sound as it pulled itself off of me, and crawled a little ways away. The silent beasts too scared to scream. I stood up and prepared to stab it again, when it lunged at me again. I shifted to the side and it landed awkwardly on one of its paws.

“I took the advantage and stabbed it from behind. It whipped around trying to bite me, but it missed. The creature opened its mouth and gave a silent scream, before it collapsed onto the ground, and died.”