Defiance c j redwine

as if hoping to scrape against the stars, and find what I’m looking for.

A bush hugs the base of a tree, its branches curving like a bell, its leaves brushing the ground. Beneath it, a small, hollow space rests, and I crawl inside, string an arrow, and wait.

Night has nearly reclaimed the sky when I finally catch a glimpse of movement. I tense, hardly daring to breathe. M y patience is rewarded as a creature about the size of a small sheep wanders close, nose to ground, snuffling. I draw in a slow, deep breath, rehearse each step in my mind, and then whip the bow up, close one eye to sight down the center, and release the arrow.

It flies true, striking the side of the animal, and I leap from cover as my quarry jerks around and starts to run with faltering steps. Crossing the distance between us in seconds, I yank my knife free, leap on the animal’s back, and swing my arm beneath its neck to slice open its throat.

It dies instantly, and I wipe my knife clean on the ground beside it. Retrieving my arrow, I clean it as well and pack my weapons away. Flipping the animal over, I see I’ve caught a boar.

A young one, by the size of its tusks.

I can’t easily lift it, plus I refuse to get its blood all over me.

The thought makes bile surge up my throat, and I cough, gag, and spit on the forest floor. I solve the problem by grabbing its hind legs and dragging it to the edge of the trees. I don’t want to drag it across the grass and broken pieces of road to our shelter because the trail of blood could lead a wild animal straight to us while we