Hunger by Nathan Luque

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
A pain driven by circumstance

Submitted: September 16, 2012

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Submitted: September 16, 2012

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HUNGER by Nathan Luque

Under the new morning sun his fur would burn with comforting warmth. Most would not find issue with his placement, but he was hungry and food would not be easily found. It had been almost two weeks since his last meal, a small warthog, more bone than anything and whatever wasn’t bone tended to be fat. He needed something lean, something bloody and soon

The hunter stood, stretched and began to run in the direction of the waterhole. He would need his energy when he arrived, but walking would take half the day. Some mice scattered in the brush as he sailed past and made him pause. Once deciding such prey was above him he continued, slower now.

Up ahead was the waterhole, dried out from the summer heat, but nonetheless populated. Zebra, caribou and gazelle all stood drinking from the oversized puddle. He crouched down, staying below the level of the grass and always watching. One of the striped ones moved his head from the water, sniffed at the air and resumed drinking.

At the far side of the waterhole stood a lone gazelle “older, fatter, slower” he though. The predator stalked around behind his prey and waited. Any opportunity and he would grasp it. The gazelle had stopped drinking and was surveying the area. “He knows I’m here”. That changed things, began to move away cautiously; soon he would be out of reach and his chance gone, he had to strike.

Leaping out of the bush the hunter lunged at the creature, he had underestimated its speed. The gazelle shot off. His stomach yelling at him to move, the predator followed, weaving through the path made by his prey.

The grass opened up and the gazelle ran a mere body’s length in front of him. “I cannot keep up with him” the hunter thought “I need to pounce”; he did. Slashing at the air, his mouth spread wide, the hunter fell. He had not expected to miss. The ground rushed up at him and he found his mouth filled with dust and grass. His prey was a spec when he returned his gaze; it looked back and kept running till it disappeared from view.

Cleaning the dirt and grass from his tongue the predator sat down, his weight on his aching haunches. Another mouse ran through the bush and this time his paw rushed out to meet it. It tasted of defeat.


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