FictionPress.com - let the words flow| FictionPress.com - let the words flow |
| Home Just In Communities Forums Beta Readers Dictionary Search | Login Register Extras |
Well, here I am again with yet another English assignment I did. This time, we had to write a short story using ten vocabulary words. This was done just recently. January, in fact.(Ok, so it's not so recent.) Anyways, compared to my very first story, The Sky Coaster...actually, there is no comparison.
Hunting a Fox Kit
One foggy night I had made the decision to go back—to go back to the place which held my memories, both good and bad. Considering the fears it had also brought me, I was a bit reluctant in my choice, but nonetheless I had taken the long journey back.
Much of my home village had changed. Instead of the quiet and quaint little village I had come to know and love, a serene yet bustling little town stood in its place. I was not so hesitant to visit the people as I was to explore and reminisce in the nearby forest. Gathering my courage (and after many smiles from familiar faces), I entered.
Fortunately, the technological advances of the modern world had not altered the beautiful harmony of the forest and its creatures. Even through the dense trees I was able to locate a certain tree of my past. The certain tree where a sin I had hoped would stay buried in my mind forever now rested. Though it had happened many years ago, the tree by itself seemed to reawaken those thought-to-be long forgotten and painful memories; and they shown just as vividly in my mind as if it had happened just yesterday…
-----
I had come into the woods, rifle over one shoulder, hunting supplies over the other in a small backpack. It contained some of the most sophisticated gear for capturing foxes, the creatures that dominated the forest like lions to a jungle. Not yet had one furry-tailed creature been able to escape my clever tricks and traps. Thanks to my great prowess, I was given the title of the top hunter in the area, and many merchants had flocked to my village for a trade on my furs and other fox-made valuables.
I heard a rustle of leaves nearby and smirked. Today would be another successful day of hunting, I could already tell. Silently—oh, so silently—I removed the traps from my pack and set them up in a way to where the poor creature could never escape. As another added precaution I loaded my rifle with a magazine of bullets, once again silently as I could. Content, I waited patiently behind a berry bush for the unmistakable sounds of yelps, howls, and snaps.
Indeed a rustle of leaves could be heard, but instead of yelps of pain, there was a faint whimper. I cautiously stood. A small fox kit had wandered into the field of traps I had set. Though its fur and bones were not yet of quality, I decided to go after the little thing anyway. It would, after all, make for a cute trophy on my wall.
I fired once and the small fox jumped, surprised. Spotting my rifle, its beady eyes widened as it stood paralyzed with fear. I fired again, this time incessantly, and the small thing jumped and bolted, amazingly avoiding the many traps set for it. Grinning, I chased after it, the adrenaline already coursing through my veins. I followed the tiny thing to a nearby river and hid behind a tree. The kit looked around and sniffed the air. It seemed suspicious of its surroundings, for it hesitated before dropping its guard and taking a drink from the waters. I carefully showed myself and aimed. The little thing was lucky, for at the last second the kit had noticed my scent and jumped to the side. I continued firing, but the small creature was too swift and lucky. Growling, I abandoned my usual tactic and began to fire haphazardly, firing on the run and even when I didn’t have a clear shot.
What truly infuriated me was the fact that the fox kit was still unharmed. Though some stray twigs may have caught on its fur, it was virtually unscathed. I did the unthinkable as I pondered this conundrum. I hesitated and let my attention wander, allowing my prey to escape. Too late I had realized it, and now I could find no trace of its whereabouts…that was, until I help the unmistakable shriek of pain come from nearby. Rushing over, I came to another clearing with several traps that, upon closer inspection, were indeed not mine.
I spotted the young fox in the middle of the array. It had had its bushy tail caught in the steel teeth. The silver tip of its tail stuck out from one end. It had just narrowly missed his entire body.
The kit gazed up at me with pleading emerald green eyes, and all my defenses shattered. Its face was just so adorable, so innocent and once full of life and rapture that had been taken away by the technology of the outside world. I felt unimaginable pity for the cute animal and fury towards myself. My initial intentions with the poor creature now seemed so immoral, so inhumane; I wondered how I had ever become what I was today.
Now slightly in a panic for the young fox’s safety, I opened the steel teeth of the trap and the kit quickly jumped out. Luckily, its tail had been caught in between two teeth; otherwise things could have been more of a mess.
An awkward silence passed as we each gazed at each other apprehensively; the kit alert for trickery and me for an attack of defense.
“Don’t worry,” I cooed, “I’m not going to hurt you.”
I bent down and reached out a hand. The fox gazed at it for a moment and slowly made its way to sniff it. When I made no move to harm it, it approached and rubbed its back against my palm. I chuckled and stood back up. Without words we had come to a sort of stipulated agreement.
One gaze later, we both left in our own direction, one to a den, the other to a house. I smiled to myself knowing that I had actually done something good in the world. By saving the fox kit’s life, I had also saved the future of its posterity. I had a strange feeling that its young kits would grow up to be strong and forgiving, just as that kit was.
-----
Now you may be thinking how capricious my intentions and train of thought had been; but it is truth. As I pondered about the fate of the little fox kit, I realized that the rifle had not been totally obsolete, at least not to me. Though it could no longer fire, it still had a purpose: it served as a reminder of my past, a reminder of my past sin and how I had atoned for it over the years by vowing to never harm another innocent creature and helping others in need. I made a mental renunciation to myself to display the rifle on the wall of my home, as well as the empty trophy board right next to it.
Come on! You know you want to. Press that little button! Review!
