Og is not the best hunter in the tribe. In fact, he hunts alone now because the others feel he brings them bad luck.
In truth, it does always seem as if Og manages to step on a dry twig at just the the wrong moment, or to sneeze, or to get overanxious and throw his rock too soon—way too soon.
He needs to make a kill today and bring back some meat to show the others he is a capable hunter. He sees the deer and gets ready to make his move. I kind of have the feeling something will go comically wrong here.
In 250 words or less, tell me a story incorporating the elements in the picture. The 250 word limit will be strictly enforced.
Please keep language and subject matter to a PG-13 level.
Use the comment section below to submit your entry. Entries will be accepted until 5:00 PM Pacific Time on Tuesday, April 3rd, 2012.
On Wednesday morning, we will open voting to the public with an online poll for the best writing entry accompanying the photo. Voting will be open until 5:00 PM Thursday.
On Friday morning, the winner will be recognized as we post the winning entry along with the picture as a feature. Best of luck to you all in your writing!
Entries only in the comment section. Other comments will be deleted.
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Photograph by K.S. Brooks, used here with the photographer’s permission. Copying or reproduction of any kind without express consent is prohibited. All rights reserved.
For a more detailed explanation of the contest & its workings, please see the post called “Writing Exercises Return with a Twist” from 12/24/11.
By participating in this exercise the contestants agree to the rules of the contest and waive any and all further considerations or permissions otherwise required for any winning entries to be published by Indies Unlimited as an e-book, showcasing all the photos and with the winning expositions credited appropriately and accordingly.
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The wind was blowing the dead grass into my face. Parting the grass there were two large bucks guarding the herd. I need to be closer…much closer. The grass was red where my bleeding hands parted it. I held my breath and crept closer.
I could now smell my prey and hoped they couldn’t hear my heart beating. It was louder than our camp drums. I took a deep breath, held it and crawled closer. This is my chance to prove to Whaloo that I am worthy of her. Wearing the pelt of a buck I killed, would be in my favor, and would keep the other warriors away. I need this for me more than anyone else. I crawled closer. I could see the big buck’s brown eyes staring in my direction. Just a little bit closer.
The other warriors blame me for past hunt failures and I hunt alone. To be a warrior requires claiming an animal with only a rock. Bows and spears are the reward for success. I moved my bag of rocks and crawled closer.
The big buck sensed something and raised his head, but turned into the wind. I opened my pouch and felt the heavy rock. I saw my past hunt failures, but I pictured how I would need to throw the rock. I rose quietly to my knee and as the buck turned, I stood and threw the rock at his surprised eyes.
The loud crack announced I was now a warrior.
Og lonely. Wish had friend.
Wait. Deer! Og move slow, get close to deer. Drum inside chest pounding. Breathe slow. Jump up and throw rock. Og miss, but deer not run away. No. Deer run toward. Head down. Og surprised. Catches Og's loincloth with pointy head spears. Tries to shake Og off. Can't. Og's teeth and bones hurt. Deer panics, runs into water. Og breathing water. Og scared. Notices log. Tries to grab it. Not log. Log with teeth. Log bites deer on leg and starts to spin. Og spins too. Loincloth rips. Og naked. But Og free. Deer not so lucky. But here come other logs with teeth. Fight over deer. Og doesn't think. Og wishes Og thinks more. Og grabs bloody part of deer and runs, heads for cave. Thinks tribe will like him again now. Make friends. Piece of deer is almost deer.
Arrive at cave. Tribe home. Og smiles. Tribe look at Og naked and laugh. But then not laugh. Tribe look over Og's shoulder. Og and bleeding deer gut trail been followed by big cat with mouth spears. Tribe scream. Run. Big cat with mouth spears eat two of tribe, Glug and Grog. Tribe sad.
Next day, Og lonelier. Og hunting far away. Very far. No rocks this time. Sunburn in bad place.
Og crouched in the grass, waiting. He had not been this close to deer since the day he climbed blue jay's tree. She was not happy to find him close to her nest. Og almost landed, or landed on, his first deer that day.
This time he waited on the ground. He stayed still like the greatest hunters. When the last doe passed him pride blazed in his chest like a cave fire on a cold winter night. He could here the cheers from the tribe. All girls would want him, but Og wanted Igla. They would make little hunters.
Og could wait no longer. He stood quiet as a fox, raised his rock high–
"GROONT," came from behind, "GROONT," hot breath on his neck froze him in place.
The does turned, spotted Og and dashed away. Another grunt caused him to turn.
A massive buck!
Og forgot about the rock over his head and which direction he was facing. He ran backwards as fast as he could. The great buck watched in bewilderment for a few moments before pursuing. It lowered its head to impale him on its huge antlers but Og's foot caught a rabbit hole causing him to fly back. His rock went into the air and came down on the bucks head.
That night, after the feast, Og and Igla began working on the next generation of hunters and gatherers. The next day Og took up fishing.
The Muley’s were feasting on the lush grass near the river and unfortunately could not detect the scent of the lone hunter that was stalking them. Their big ears looked like antennas as they twitched now and again trying to detect anything threatening their well being.
OG had been waiting patiently for hours to prove the he could indeed be one of the tribe’s best hunters, and be respected rather than ridiculed. He found that the herd of deer had indeed moved in his direction and finally the kill was not only possible but very likely.
The deer skin cape he was wearing gave him the camouflage he needed, and the mocs on his feet gave him his quiet step.
The largest member of the deer herd is now so close OG could actually slip the leather rope he had designed over his head for the initial capture. The rope was pulled tight around the neck of the deer, and he snorted loudly and took off toward the river. OG’s rope was wound around his body to maintain control over the deer, and the large rock was lifted high for the attack.
OG smashed the beautiful head of the Muley deer, but was dragged into the river by the final surge of the deer’s energy. The tribe, watching from camp, laughed as OG was towed toward them by the wounded deer. OG did indeed have the last laugh as the deer drug him into the camp and died.
I could feel my mouth salivating. My stomach growled and I feared my prey would surely scatter it was so loud. My mate was crouched low in the tall grass yards to my left. His head was lowered, his powerful shoulder blades just visible over the tops of the honey coloured blade swaying in the dusk breeze.
I was momentarily distracted by his majestic presence. As the Alpha of our wolf pack he was the largest but even among all the neighbouring packs Nathanael was a sight to be seen.
He was a force to be reckoned with and yet he was mine. To our pack he was the leader, void of emotion but to me he was my love, my lover and soul mate. Only to me did he whisper his feelings.
'Sarah, you are everything to me, my world, my love'
At those moments I would feel so safe.
I saw him lift a paw, poised to attack the deer grazing delicately just feet away. We lived for these moments. The hunt, the adrenaline. It made the mundane working life as a human worth it. I spent the whole week eager for the weekends when the pack would meet, shift and be the animals we were inside.
Nathanael l looked in my direction. His amber eyes flashed in the light of the setting sun. I knew him so well that I could tell he was smirking, even though he was in wolf form. He gave a wink and a short nod of his head. I nodded in return, turned to the next wolf and did the same. Let the games begin…
For Laurie Boris:
“Rutabaga!” Og yelled. At this, the formerly cowering badger lifted an eyebrow and bit the hunter’s nose.
“Ow! Bananagram!” The less-than-mighty hunter sank to the ground in despair, cupping his damaged proboscis as the non-business end of the furry critter skipped away. Stupid Unnamed Verbal Outburst Syndrome. That’s what the Wise Man called it. When Og got excited, he emitted strange sounds. Coupled with his high, whiny voice, all he could hope to kill were deaf field mice. No wonder no one would hunt with him.
“It’s not FAIR!” Og flung down his spear. “Marshmallow! Bandersnatch!” A cloud of birds rose from the baobab trees. He sat for a while, fuming.
Then he heard it. Sticks crinkling. Deer? Antelope? Og couldn’t tell. Horns, hooves, they all looked the same to him. He could do this. He clamped his lips together and moved closer…closer… Yes! Dinner!
The beast’s ears twitched. Og sprang. “Frigidaire!” He smacked a hand over his mouth. Too late. The thing trained his eyes on Og and emitted a derisive snort.
“Defenestration!”
The quadruped’s lips curled into a smile. Then it laughed. Which upset Og even more. “Cauliflower! Roto-Rooter!”
It laughed louder, stamping a hoof, tears streaming from its eyes.
“Regurgitate perspicacious knickknack!”
The deer flopped down and, gasping, kicked its legs into the air.
Stupid deer. Antelope. Whatever. Og shook a fist at it. “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!”
With one last snort, the hooved thing went still. Og poked it a few times. Nothing.
“Ha. Who says Og can’t hunt?”