THE HUNT

A Seven year old's vengeance

A few more hours to sunset in the outer ring of a dense forest, no prey came out of the cave all day.  

The young lad kept rubbing the stone against the stick, with each flick the edge of the arrow kept getting sharper, no chance he could afford to miss this one. 

This one was thinner, lighter than the one leaning over his back. 

He needs two more of such sticks for better chances of a hit, if not for survival. If he misses with the two, then he could become the prey. 

As time passed, the prey still inside, his stomach rumbled, and his eyebrows narrowed.

Did it come out anytime while he was asleep? 

Is he waiting in vain outside an empty cave?

He carefully scanned the sand around the cave for footprints. 

There was no wind today so no chance they could have protected its daughter. 

In fact, right then, the first breeze of the day blew. The grass fields outside the cave rustled and welcomed the calming breeze. 

The young lad kept sharpening the arrow; he didn’t want to take a chance this time. He had seen his father die right in front of him; killed because the tip broke while piercing the prey. The tips of the prey’s claws wouldn’t be blunt; mercilessly he saw his father’s face get shredded. With each scratch; skin, muscles, eyes and, at last, the skull was blown away to different directions. The Lad’s mother fainted on the spot. He saw his prey drag her into the cave.

 

Two weeks ago. The boy spent a week hunting in search of the right stone. It has to be long and sharp; he cut the lower edges to make a good handle. He used it to cut through the leaves and find the perfect three sticks that should be strong. 

He found the right ones to sharpen. He ate the remaining fruits gathered near the tree by his mother. The last of the fruits devoured and one more night to go before he starts waiting outside the cave. 

He listens intently, eyes fixed on the entrance like in a trance. He waits.

His father claimed that no man he knew had dared be in her path. She was the daughter of the winds, he said. She chased and pounced on a deer before he could fix his sight, the father said.

The daughter of the winds should come out and face the son of the man, the lad thought. ‘The daughter killed the man who took care of my mother and me; she, whose womb I was brought out to existence. Her lullabies are stolen from me. My father, my hero and my protector, is stolen from me. I shall shred you alive today.’   

The lad’s eyes gently went up to look at the sky, the sun will vanish any moment now, and the prey will be able to see better than him, once that happens. The lad’s eyes shifted to a tree branch next to him, and he realised how weak he suddenly was. The daughter was sitting on top of a branch, her tail swinging like a pendulum; she must have been watching him for quite a while. 

The young lad looked down and smiled; Papa, I am coming. He picked up his bow and the first arrow and looked up again. She was not there anymore. He looked around and saw her eyes sparkling behind the bush. She slowly ventured out wagging her tail. He stood steady, arched his back and pulled the string, arrow in place. The daughter vanished before his eyes. 

The next thing he knew was that he was on the ground, gasping for breath. 

The bow had snapped to two pieces. The boy looked behind from where he lay to gather some sense of what happened. He took a deep breath and realised that she had knocked the wind out of him with her pounce. She started circling him with claws out, gentle hiss to make sure that his fur is stretched out, blood pumping to & fro his heart. She wanted to waste no time on this one. She went for his neck, like how she had done with his father.

The boy grabbed the broken end of the bow and held out the sharpened end towards her. 

Like a flash of lightning, he was pushed back a couple of paces, with the impact she had made as she lunged at him, but her chest has pierced the bow.

She was still not out. Her first scratch cut his deltoid muscles. 

He was on his feet by then, picked up the stone and gave it all his might and heart. The stone pierced the neck, cracked the bow and went through to the ground. The daughter’s head rolled on the sand.

He was shivering, tears flowing down his eyes. Thunder should have struck by now, but instead, it was just a gentle breeze. The first man in history to hunt a female cheetah.

 But, history had just begun for humankind. 

Two cubs came out of the cave. They purred as they approached their mother. They kept sniffing her purring. The lad didn’t want to look any longer. He walked away into the sunset. Tears were rolling as he walked.     

Author's Note

Views, Thoughts, stones, arrows... All welcome... :)

Reviews

[Soundz]

So much to take in with such small length.
I cheered for the lad in the fight, I felt sadness for the sight of losing his parents, and I felt regret for him not feeling strength with victory.
You are indeed a great writer! You should be stoked on this piece :)

[Ashwin Shanker]

Thank you for the review. Do have a look at my other works as well, I am sure you won't be disappointed

[Soundz]

I might have to! :)

[William A. Wilson]

I don't have any stones or arrows to give, so I will stick with what I do have. It's a good story, and I actually felt bad for the cubs, as the role was reversed. The cub's mother died at the hands of another, just like the boy. It could be made into a novel, the story of a child constantly trying to track down the cheetah, always one step behind but never getting to her... until the end. Maybe the odd twist here and there.

[Ashwin Shanker]

I would not be asking for stones or arrows... This story is not that bad LOL :P ... Yeah, the cubs were brought into this story to suggest the message that revenge only begets revenge. That is the truth of life. The circle of life. I am not sure whether a boy chasing a cheetah for 150+ pages would be an interesting fare to be considered for a novel. It could be given a try but I am thinking of a few more plot points before things can be considered.

[Schatzi]

Hello Ashan Shanker,

This is an interesting story. I was heartbroken at the end though. Such a sad ending . . .

I'm a little confused about the way you have organized the paragraphs. It appears to be organized more like a poem, but it reads like a story. The way you have it set up here gives the impression of disorder, which I don't think is what you were going for as this only distracts from the story. If you perhaps, better organized your paragraphs it would be an easier read for your readers. Just a suggestion . . . Otherwise, it is a good story.

Thank you for sharing!

Kind regards,

Schatzi

[Ashwin Shanker]

Thanks for the encouraging review Shatzi !!
I feel a lot more could be done to make this story a better one... Not just in paragraphing but also character development as well... /
A lot of lessons learnt from this piece, I did :)
Will bring in better work in future

[Schatzi]

I think it is great as a short story but if you intend to expand it into a book, then there is plenty of time to develop the characters better. :)

[Ashwin Shanker]

I am not intending to make a book out of this work or any of the short stories I have written so far. Though I think about writing a book all the time, I have never had that one idea which I feel is big enough to be manifested in a book.

[Schatzi]

That is understandable. It will come to you and I'm sure it will be wonderful. :)

[LilyVice]

Thank you for inviting me to read.

There is a lot here which means there is a lot to relay.

First of all, the character needs to be grounded.
Secondly, the action is disembodied.
Third, there is no conclusive arch to the story, let alone a climactic build.

This is a vignette but the subject is action. The words, descriptions, thoughts and narrative must step in tempo with the subject. The end result was a flurry of information and sentiment without any embodiment or grace.

This is simply my opinion. Take into account I have not written anything of this magnitude and have no experience pulling off the advice I've so readily given you.

Best of luck.

[Ashwin Shanker]

Thank you for your review LilyVice.
I have taken note of your observations and will keep in mind to be more articulate in future.

[MightyMouse]

That was really good. I read it yesterday and I did like it. It was interesting not knowing what it was he was hunting until the very end. Not revealing things like that are a great way to get people to read to the end.

[Ashwin Shanker]

Hey Mighty mouse. I had made some changes to the story, as you would have noticed. Yes... appreciate the suspense angle was well-recieved. I was looking for a visual story to come alive with this one. Glad you liked it.

[MightyMouse]

It was very visual, and I did notice the changes. So, congratulations.