Survival World

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Stark Review

Hunting under the full moon during winter.

Chapter 4 (v.3) - Winter Hunting

Submitted: November 17, 2017

Reads: 82

Comments: 1

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Submitted: November 17, 2017



(Max's pov)

The sound of crunching snow broke the silence of the forest. I continued the game of cat and mouse, I never flinched, my body now used to the pain winter air brought. My gaze searched, watching the thorny underbrush carefully for any signs of movement. My heart steadily beat in my chest.

About to head back through the snowy forest to my home, I spotted a glimpse of gray fur among that underbrush. A full-grown winter-fied Wolx, the full moon shimmering against its pelt as it emerged from its cover.

Its sharp, yellow teeth were in a snarl and those yellow eyes it bore were encased in fear and hatred. It's a shame I have to kill such a beautiful creature, but it's the only prey I've seen during this cold seasoned hunting trip. Besides poorly grown carrots are overrated, so this catch is a must for me.

Releasing the tension on the bow string, I fired my arrow, it had launched itself at me. It's paw knocks the arrow off course, now striking a tree. I prepare myself for the attack, left hand gripping the smooth oak of my dagger, and right hand dropping the bow in hand behind me.

Claws reach my chest, knocking me down to the freezing ground, hence pinning me. My legs kicked up into its stomach, flipping our position with my dagger to its throat, efficiently killing it in one quick swipe. Gooey liquid spilled out of its neck where I cut it, staining my hands and its pale fur a crimson red.

I got up relaxing my shoulders staring at the beast slowly losing warmth. Then I wiped the blood from my weapon, as if nothing had happened. I walked over to the tree the arrow had hit, pulling it out and putting back into the quiver on my back. Then bending down I grabbed the hunting bow from the blood stained snow.

I pulled out a cloth from one of my pockets and tied it around the still bleeding wound on the creature, stopping the revolting liquid from flowing anylonger. Strong tired arms swiftly pulled the beast onto my shoulders, warmth luckily still radiating from it. I started to walk back, mind refusing to think about what I did, for I never liked killing.

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