A Day in the Woods

The first words I ever wrote for The Sureshot

A Day in the Woods

The cold mountain air bit at the faces of the two men as they crept silently toward a young buck nibbling on some roots. Without any sound, they slowly inched their way toward the unaware animal. Durbar, a young man of fifteen still watched his father, Adar, very carefully, mimicking his movements, striving to be as great a woodsman as he was. The large man stopped suddenly, and so did his son. He slowly took up his giant long bow, and gently pulled out an arrow from the quiver on his back. He quickly inspected it to ensure there was no damage to the fletchings, and then he notched it and stood up ever so carefully. His black cloak gave him some concealment in the dark, dense forest. The bowman drew back the string of his mighty bow until it touched his bearded cheek.

Holding absolutely steady, he loosed the arrow. The missile twisted slightly as it sailed through the still air, flying past massive trees, until finding the unsuspecting buck. The arrow struck the animal’s side piercing his heart. Stunned and now struggling to cling to life, the buck tried to stumble away, but didn’t get far.

The bowman leapt to his feet as the arrow struck its mark. He raced toward the animal, pulling a dagger from his belt. The powerful man jumped upon the terrified buck and dragged his dagger across its throat. The animal collapsed, kicked one last time and then was still. The woodsman rose and stood over his kill, smiling at his son who was admiring his father’s prowess from a distance.

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About Phil

Just a man with a lot of stories, poems and things to talk about in his mind. Thanks for reading.
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