Haunting Déjà vu

Kohana isn't a fan of hunting and killing animals, and some would call him a vegetarian, while others call him an animal lover. But, everyone in his tribe knows him as the monster with strange eyes.

“Ugh, he can be so annoying sometimes…!” Kohana muttered under his breath, irked by his older brother’s bothersome antics. Just five minutes and five meters prior to his current spot at the clan’s camp entrance, Kohana and his elder brother, Kotori, were once again arguing about his reluctance to hunt and kill. He thought it was immoral to kill animals for food when people could spare the animals, eat the plentiful vegetation that grew all around them, and instead, live alongside the animals in peace and delectation. Meanwhile, even though his brother and the majority of his clan believed in living alongside animals, they would still hunt and kill them for food! 

Kohana did not understand their ways, so instead, decided to reject them altogether and live his own way of life, despite the pressure of his mother and elder brother to come to his senses and live as the rest of the clan does. He simply couldn’t take it anymore, and he had to get away. Sighing in exasperation, he shut his eyes and slowly ambled out of the cloudless defoliated area that was the main clearing of the Aniaoi clan camp, heading towards the soothing arms of the gentle, solacing wood.

“Kohana! Get back here! Where do you think you’re going?!” he was yanked from his reverie and turned his head at the voice, only to find his infamous elder brother storming towards him from across the clearing in a rage, yowling about how he was supposed to be out on a hunting patrol at this very moment with some of the other men from the clan. 

As he went, Kohana tried to ignore the minuscule solicitude pounding at the back of his consciousness that was practically screaming at him to turn back; to apologize to Kotori, to go on the hunting patrol, just to obviate the inevitable consequences that were sure to befall him when he returned from wherever he desired to go. But, he shoved those thoughts back in their rightful place; into the deep, dark abyss that was his never-ending pit of dreams and nightmares.

With a roll of his eyes and a blatantly disrespectful 180 degree turn on his heel, Kohana drowned out Kotori’s wearisome ranting with his drifting daydreams of the graceful wood, as he strolled casually out through the camp entrance and into the thick undergrowth that which he had become so familiar with over the lonely years, before sprinting at top speed towards his special solitude that was known all around. 

Kohana let out another deep sigh, but this time, one of complacency and lightheartedness, despite the rather distasteful scene he had so leisurely left behind him. He continued to run, feeling ecstatic at the liberating sensation of sprinting through the forest without any cares in the world, and embracing the necromantic scene before him. 

Suddenly, without warning, Kohana heard a strange noise that was unfamiliar to him, an exception being one time a short while ago when he was 18. Huntsmen had invaded their territory in the great Appalachian Mountains, during the spring, to take advantage of their population of gray foxes. 

Even after three years, he could always recall it vividly; the way they had shot a poor, unsuspecting fox, just for its coat. He agreed that they were beautiful, but knew they were definitely even more so in their elegant, luminous, and most importantly, living form. 

He remembered how he could only take refuge behind the trees and undergrowth, shaking and unable to do anything as they grabbed the poor creature and slung it over their shoulders to take away to some faraway place beyond his reach. 

Kohana never desired to experience that once more, so he slowed to a stop near the clearing where he had heard the noises coming from. He tilted his nose to the wind and recognized the unmistakable smell of gunpowder. Luckily, it was faint, so they hadn’t shot yet, but he knew very well what they were planning, and he didn’t like it.

Moving forward slowly, Kohana was distraught to see this sight before him: Two hunters had their guns pointed at a gorgeous gray fox that was sleeping innocently in a shallow foxhole at the base of a nearby Carolina Silverbell tree. Snapping out of his shocked stupor, Kohana silently crept closer, but his heart languished as he recalled his past near-encounter with hunters, and it shook him to his marrow with fear of being captured and at the same time, he clung to reality, thinking, knowing that this was one major climacteric in his life that he would not soon forget...

Author's Note

Most of this story is not going to be historically accurate (seeing as my weak point is history), so please ignore any cultural or historical errors! If you want, you can tell me about them, and I will try to fix them! Thank you! :D