Og is not the greatest hunter in his tribe. Sometimes he sneezes or steps on a stick at just the wrong time. That is what happened when the Sabre-tooth ate Kronk.
Sometimes, Og would get excited and throw his spear too early. That is what happened when the mammoth squished Nu.
The rest of the tribe started to think Og was bad luck. They drove him out. Now Og must find his own place. Og needs a cave. This little bear is too young to have its own cave. Og will drive the little bear away and take the cave. What could possibly go wrong?
In 250 words or less, tell us 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, January 22nd, 2013.
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. See HERE for additional information and terms.
6 thoughts on “Flash Fiction Challenge: Og Returns”
Title: ‘Oh Gee’
OG had friends, but no more. Kronk best friend. OG sorry sneeze woke Sabre-tooth.
OG no run fast, but run fast’r than Kronk. Sabre-tooth run friend down. Now OG without best friend.
OG good hunter with bow and arrow. Not gud wit spear. Ground shake as Mammoth see hunt party. Throw spear early and have to run. OG run fast. Nu, not so fast. Now OG without any friends.
Chief want talk. Talk with others. They say OG need new friends.
Chief also say – OG bring two killed deer. OG have place again.
OG have no place to sleep now. OG need to make hut. Hut making much work and take many suns. OG need cave. OG hunt for cave, but very tired.
OG see bear cub. OG want food. OG need cave more. OG good tracker. OG follow cub. Now near dark. Cub now run fast. OG run. Happy to still see cub. OG see cave. Jump up and down.
OG careful not to step on branch. OG not going to sneeze. Cub go in cave. OG going to scare cub and take cave. Maybe OG need food. Will use spear.
OG real quiet. Cave real dark. OG hear noise. OG ready spear. OG close eyes. OG open eyes and see gud. OG see too gud. OG see fur in front of spear. OG look up…and up more…see large bear head wit big teeth.
OG respect bear family. OG hope he run fast enough.
The bear cub’s eyes judged Og, looked down on him. Just like his ex-tribesmen.
“Og no deserve cave,” Og imagined the cub thinking as it stared at him.
“Og do deserve cave,” Og assured himself, gripping his spear in his hairy hand. The cub continued to stare, unmoving.
“Og do deserve cave!” Og screamed, hoping to frighten the cub away, leaving its home to the superior caveman. Og would take the cave for his own. He would find a nice female to club and drag there, starting his own tribe. But the bear just stood there, unconcerned.
“Og show cub who stronger,” Og muttered, rearing back his arm, the gnarled wood of his spear digging into the palm of his tightly clamped hand.
Og launched his spear with all his might. The flint spearhead fell off in midflight, the spear’s haft dropping well short of its target.
Og was tired of failure. And so, with anger pumping through his body, throbbing against his protruding forehead, he lunged for the cub. The cub bounded away through the field, frightened by Og’s advance, or possibly his roar.
Og stopped, confused. He had not roared. Hot and humid air brushed across the back of his thick neck.
Og swiveled his head slowly, meeting the gaze of a Sabre-tooth, apparently planning of finishing what it had started with Kronk.
“Og in big trouble.”
Og limped into the cave, cursing as the porcupine quills in his arm dug deeper. He was supposed to bring back meat for the tribe to prove he wasn’t cursed. That plan backfired horribly. Not only would the medicine man not treat Og’s wounds, they banished him forever. Alone, hurt.
Something small and dark moved in the shadows making strange grunting sounds. Og tensed, ready to run but it was only a small bear. It would make a good dinner, but Og was too tired. Besides, he lost his spear and stone knife fighting the porcupine. He had only his two hands which the baby bear began to lick. Og picked up the bear and carried it outside.
“Og need cave for new home. You too little for nice big cave. Go play in grass with pretty flowers.”
Sad brown eyes stared at Og, alone, driven from his home. Og wiped a tear from his eye and carried the bear back into the cave. They curled up together all warm and cozy, friends.
Og woke to a loud roar and a big angry bear. He stood over the baby bear, facing the vicious teeth and razor sharp claws.
“You no hurt little bear. He Og’s friend.”
Shimmering light surrounded the bear. Og rubbed his eyes, confused. When he looked again, the big bear was gone, instead a pretty woman in a bear cape smiled at him. Women never looked at Og like that before. Maybe Og finally did something right.
Og trudged, head down, arms hanging limp from his shoulders, the shaft of his only spear balanced from his hand. A failure, they called him, useless. Two best friends dead; his fault. Banished until he brought back two fresh deer. Impossible. Wolf clan hunted large prey in groups. How could he do it alone? His shoulders drooped even more. He sighed. Maybe he should let that saber tooth end it for him. He deserved it.
Or that bear. What? Bear? It stopped, as if waiting for him. Ah, just a cub. Where was Mama Bear? And why was he not afraid? The cub moved on a few paces, then looked back to see if he followed. Og. Come. What? Did it speak? Did it know his name? Og halted, alert now. Og, follow.
Og turned in the cub’s direction. Come. What did he have to lose. He followed. All day. Whenever he slowed the cub turned to beckon him on. Og forgot his despair, forgot he was hungry, forgot bears meant death.
Dusk. The cub stopped by the mouth of a cave, turned, waited. Come. For you. Why was Og was not afraid? When he approached the cub faded. Gone. How? He smelled fire, meat. The cave? Og entered. Inside he saw men, women, children. One woman smiled. “We Bear Clan. Bear called. Eat.”
One man reached to examine his spear. “Sharp point. Clan need good spear-maker. You make?”
“You stay. Smiling woman is for you.”
Og crept slowly through the underbrush, looking for the perfect place to spring up and make a Big Noise that would scare off the cub. He would need food soon but it was little, and little things needed protecting. His tribe would laugh if he hunted a cub. One day he would hunt something big, and they would take him back. But today, cave. A faint pang of guilt rose in his heart for choosing to drive the bear away from shelter, but he was cold.
Og jumped from the bushes, flailing his arms and making his Big Noise, but what Kronk had called his Big Dumb Ugly Foot got caught in a tree root. Kronk was right, Og briefly reflected, before his Gravel Sack, as named by Nu, hit a rock. The blow to Og’s head knocked him out cold, and he remained like that for most of the rest of the day.
Some time later, as the sun began to disappear below the trees, Og awoke. In his haze, he grunted, and tried to stand, but there was a warm heavy lump on his back. He craned his neck and discovered that the bear cub had clambered onto him and was sleeping soundly. Og scrunched his face, his cheeks were wet and stinky. The bear had been licking him. Grudgingly, and after several attempts to rouse the beast, Og settled down and waited. When the lonely bear cub awoke, both of them moved into the cave.
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