"He was facing the blind then and I wasn't sure that I would have a shot at him. Just then he began walking around the water hole until stopping broadside at 15 yards, his head held high, staring out over the distant swaying of the grass, looking every bit like the monarch he was."
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The buck took a last look around, remembering countless days spent in these rolling hills. He had lived a long and successful life, and fathered many a fawn in the herd that had just departed. He did not feel like leaving this time. He felt disconnected, as though his path diverged from that of the host of other antelope that continued their traditional routines. He felt strangely tired and wanted to linger in this spot, remembering other, younger days.
Damn, Claudia, you are the hunter. An honorable end to a noble creature, fallen to a respectful hunter.
Killdeer
Topic: St. Jude's Firefly Makes Meat in Wyoming! (Read 1793 times)
