Run

There’s a tree with a large knot that looks like the face of an owl. This marks the halfway point between my camp and the creature’s lair. This marks the spot where my brother fell.

I know this – I could close my eyes and walk through these woods with perfect step, yet still I repeat the words. Somehow, doing so gives me a sense of strength and spirit.

I am not a man, but now I must become one. I had shown myself to be a eankke and I would not make that mistake again. The future of my family name rests upon my next actions. I must honour the memory of our tribe’s greatest bowman, my brother.

I check my quiver, running my fingers across the feathered ends of the arrowheads. I remove one, observe the bloodroot dye he always used on the fletching, and can almost feel him stood beside me. The arrows are stone, coarse to touch, but sharp enough to complete my task. Then I check the drawstring of my bow. I grasp the handle of the blade tied around my waist and practise removing it with smooth motion and speed. Although it feels as if the gods are raging within me, my movements appear calm and measured. I close my eyes and I’m transported to my last moments with my brother. The last word he spoke echoes in my mind.

Run.

I place my hand to the earth, connecting to everything around me. I hear the wind’s gentle blow through the trees and the songs of birds overhead. I exhale, a long yet silent breath, and begin to move forward.

Each step taken is with purpose. Though the beast’s lair is not yet close, I am taking every precaution. The distance isn’t far, yet time seems to move slow. If feels as if I pass through all four seasons before the opening to a cave appears before me.

I sidle up against the outer edge, and peer into the darkness.

There is silence at first, but with patience and steady breath, I can discern a faint noise from within.

I hear the creature breathing. Each intake and release of air sounds heavy and filled with pain.

I match my breathing with that of the beast, and take my first step into the shadows.

My eyes begin to adjust, but it is still near impossible to see. I keep one hand on the cave wall and the other on the handle of the stone blade tied to my waist.

The goddess of the moon seems to smile upon me this night. The clouds part and a sliver of twilight creeps into the cavern. It illuminates the interior, yet keeps the walls I cling to in darkness.

It is here that I first see the beast.

Even with its jaws closed, its large fangs protrude out to warn any foolish enough to cross its path. For a moment, I hesitate, consider leaving and returning to my camp. Yet, I know I must avenge my brother. I know I must bring honour once again to my family name.

I ran once, but not again.

I notice, lying next to the beast, the shape of another. Even in the dim light of the moon I can see the arrow stuck firmly into its neck, the bloodroot fletching a reminder of what I came here to do.

The beast I have come to kill moves its heavy head. It licks softly at the dead animal next to it, and then drops back to the floor with an enervated thud.

Silently, I withdraw an arrow, placing it against the drawstring as I raise my bow and take aim.

There’s an almost imperceptible creak as I pull the drawstring back.

Yet it is enough.

The beast raises its head.

I know it cannot see me in the shadows, but it knows I’m there.

I expect the beast to rage. I expect to see an inferno of anger within its eyes.

But all I see is sadness.

It doesn’t try to attack. It doesn’t try to escape.

The beast doesn’t run, it merely accepts its fate.

I allow my eyes to wander just enough to focus on the arrow stuck within the dead beast’s neck, without taking my sight off the creature stood before me.

I kneel and place my hand to the earth, trying to connect to everything around me. But the connection now feels more like an excuse than anything tangible.

I step out into the moonlight. Immediately I notice the clothes I’m wearing, and how the pattern of the fur matches that of the beast before me.

I try to listen for guidance from the gods, but they refuse to utter a single word to me.

The gods aren’t on my side, they never have been. I am the thing that disrupts the natural balance.

I hear the creature breathing. Each intake and release of air sounds heavy and filled with pain.

I match my breathing with that of the beast, and lower my bow.

I will not run. I will accept my fate.