Dierks had stayed by the shore longer than anticipated.
The rescue, and subsequent observation, of the white lad was an unexpected series of events. And the heavens had told him his task here was not complete and so he had not strayed. The beast was sucking every drop of adventure these peaks had to offer. While he was never a man for permanence he found the worth in keeping his head dry. After his awkward and rather uncharacteristic send-off to the pup who had no name, Dierks had lingered within sight distance of the den. The rain had kept him relatively hidden but there was no attempt to play hide-and-seek with his presence. The makeshift den he had discovered may have once been inhabited by predators larger than he, the fear that came along with that realization was shallow.
He adored nature and would have no qualms in perishing in her grasp.
This brisk dusk the white man was coming home a champion. As much as carrying the carcass of a father hare could make any wolf a war hero. He delighted in the metallic smell that smeared over his coal freckles. It had been some time he felt powerful. The insecurity that bore cracks into his soul were at this point filled. The fabric of that confidence may have been flimsy, but Dierks never paid it much mind. He didn’t tend to dwell on the negative.
Blood-stained teeth would gingerly lay the hare on the rocks outside of his camp, stretching it across as if it were thanking the heavens itself. He would follow suit. A mirror image. His eyelids drooped, nostrils flared and a deep breath filled his lungs. A small meditation was needed before consumption. A lone splash echoed against the stacked boulders. He felt at peace.
Jan 01, 2018 10:38 PM
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