Monday, December 1, 2014

The Hunt

I wrote most of this story while working at the temp job a couple of weeks back. It has some VERY SUBTLE symbolism that seemed appropriate for today.


Argus sat on the tree branch, waiting. The waiting was the hardest part of the hunt. Sharpening your weapons, reinforcing your cords, that was one thing: at least you were doing something. With waiting, all you did was, well, wait.

This hunt had lasted a few weeks, with little sign that his prey was close. In his youth, he had stalked his prey, but he now realized that wasn’t terribly practical – with each prey that came near, he’d have to change so much about his behavior to get close, and that was exhausting. So instead, he now puts out bait and sits, waiting.

Very subtly, Argus felt the air shift. The other creatures of the forest became very still and the silence that stayed behind was palpable. Now, the true test began. Argus gripped his lariat in his right hand, using only his forefinger to keep the loop in place, the excess cord held loosely in his left hand. All of his attention was focused on watching the tree line for his prey and being ready to pounce.

With little warning, four creatures exploded into the sky from the forest canopy. They flew without wings, propelled by some unknown force. Argus had only the briefest of moments to decide which prey to pursue. He could have chosen the fastest or the biggest one, but Argus had studied these creatures and knew that the best one to go after was simply the closest one. He adjusted his stance to a crouch and watched the flying creatures’ flight pattern. As soon as a creature was in range, Argus let his lariat fly. The cord found a home around the end of the long, rat-like tail and Argus let the coiled excess spill out. He watched the cord fly out after the lead and jumped from the tree just as the cord pulled his chest harness it was attached to.

This is where the hunt really got exciting, Argus thought as he climbed the cord up towards the creature. This close to his prey, he could see the details up close. The scales that covered its body were large and shimmering in the early morning light. The two limbs it had in place of arms were short numbs with a long, single claw attached to the ends. From his current position below and behind, he couldn’t see the head, but they all look about the same with their rodent-like teeth obscured by large, full lips and their soulless, black eyes, staring into nothingness. Truly, they are fearsome creatures to behold and many hunters have been intimidated on their first encounter, but Argus had grown accustomed to the chase.

He quickly scaled the cord and was soon climbing on to the creature itself. He had to move carefully to not cut himself on the sides of the large, hand-sized scales. His heavy boots and gloves provided some protection, but even some hunters that wore full armor had lost a limb simply to the scales. Every preparation in the world would mean nothing if one was careless in the moment. To help lend some stability, Argus pulled his pickaxe from its holster at the back of his belt. It was made from a previous kill’s claw, which was incredibly strong. With each swing of the axe down into the side of his prey, slowly moving Argus forward, the creature cried out with high-pitched, whistle-like screams, steam pouring out of the single nostril on the top of its head.

Despite the danger of traversing the creature as it swung its body about violently, Argus was soon at the head. He quickly holstered his pickaxe and unsheathed the sword on his back. The sword was built out of a bone from a previously killed creature with the edge made up of razor-sharp scales. He positioned the point of the sword directly over the nostril on the creature’s head – the only vulnerable part on the whole of the creature – and thrust downward. Rather than the whistle-like scream from before, the creature let out a deep bellow. As Argus’ body vibrated with the sound emanating from his prey, he pressed the sword deep into the creature’s brain, dark green blood pouring out of its head. Now the creature’s path was curving downward, unable to stay aloft through its mysterious means. Argus held tight to his sword, as much for stability as to ensure the death of his prey. Trees crashed around them as they plowed a path through the forest. With a thunderous crash, the creature met the ground, though it continued sliding for nearly a half-mile.

When the creature finally came to a stop, Argus – who was quite exhausted at this point – pulled out the mouth pipe from its loop on the left side of his belt. He took a deep breath and let out four distinct calls, a pattern that was unique to successful hunters. Soon, the village would arrive and help him harvest everything useful from his kill. He slowly began his climb down from the top of the animal. On the ground again, he took inventory of his extremities. Everything was accounted for, though he did have a few minor cuts and scrapes. Argus had known hunters that had lost fingers without realizing it, the thrill of the hunt had been so strong. If he had any wounds that needed attention, now was the time for it. However, without the need for first-aid, Argus sat down and leaned back against a still upright tree as he waited for the others.

He did not have to wait long. Just as he was truly getting comfortable, he heard the village’s chief call to him.

“Argus!” the older man called. “Quite the impressive jaub you have here.”

“Aye,” Argus called back, turning in the direction of his elder tribesman. “It will sustain our people for some time, Orion.”

“I think a jaub like this will offer much in food and textiles.” Orion was now in front of Argus and he extended his hand to help the other man to his feet. “I hope that the benefits of this one will also be bounteous, but we will not know for certain until we have sliced it open.”

“Please let me know the quality of the jaub when the assessment has been completed. Now excuse me, I must go and look for Eos.” Orion nodded and went to observe the deconstruction and appraisal of the newly landed jaub while Argus wearily began looking for his wife amongst the crowd that had formed. While he was searching, a hand lightly touched his shoulder, causing him to turn and look for the hand’s owner. He was met by the face of his wife, Eos, with her violet-grey eyes and reddish-blonde hair (though a few streaks of white had started to come in). She was carrying their young child, a boy named Aether.

“Quite the jaub you have landed, Argus,” she said to him, proudly. She turned to face Aether, “Your father is the best at finding and landing jaubs, young one.”

Argus looked at his little family, happy that he could provide a good life for them through his efforts. After all, everything comes from the jaubs that he lands: food, clothing, tools, medicine, even materials for their houses. In the past, hunters would go after other animals as prey, but no other creature provided as much to men as jaubs did, so now that was the only prey worth going after. Once the jaub was landed, other men and women of the village would deconstruct it down to the various components to be used. The various insides, called benefits, were especially valuable since they were essential components in medicines. However, no part of the jaub could be utilized without the jaub itself first being landed. In many ways, Argus thought, the hunter was the most important role in the village.

With his wife and child beside him, Argus slowly walked back to the village for a well-deserved rest. The hunt would begin again soon, but for now, he would enjoy his time off.

2 comments:

Marc R. said...

Job Hint?

Grandma Bonnie said...

I enjoyed this story. I hope you are sending it to a publisher.