Sequel: The Hunter ›
Status: Got writer's block, so gave it a lame ending. Sorry~
The Hunter Version 1
Page 7
fish trap, but apparently their nightly visitor liked to use it. Ben lifted the meat but then paused as he noticed what looked like writing. Written on the rock with charcoal were two words;
For Ben.
Ben scowled and lurched to his feet, moving to their fire pit to pick up a piece of warm charcoal to add to the writing. In sloppily written letters, he added;
and Toby.
With that done, he felt a sort of satisfaction and grinned at himself before he woke Toby to share the meat with him. It was the same type of meat as the morning before, but neither complained, simply happy to have a little extra food.
When Toby saw the writing, he laughed. It was the first, genuine laugh Ben had heard from his companion. Granted, Toby was laughing at the fact that Ben had added to the writing-which he admitted to doing-but it still brought a smile to Ben's lips, which he kept for the rest of the morning. He was starting to feel better about the whole nightly visitor thing. The person obviously had the same intelligence as them. Ben could not, however, understand why they had only shown themselves the one time at the lake. Toby told him not to worry about it, and for once, Ben decided to listen to him.
Ben, instead, wondered about why the meat had been specifically left for him. Toby had been the one who wanted to leave out an offering the night before. Ben had not done anything to impress or earn favor from this person, and thus the only thing he could think of was that they had fallen in love with him.
“That's ridiculous.” He muttered to himself.
“What is?” Toby questioned, but Ben gave no reply.
The two of them made their way down to the beach at low tide to hunt down an area for their own fish trap. When Toby found an area he liked he had Ben run back and forth to the camp to bring back the rocks. Toby arranged them how he wished, into a v just like with the one Ben had found, but on a far smaller scale. Ben could not imagine it working, but he did as Toby asked, curious nonetheless. They finished quickly and decided to make a second, closer to the shoreline of the low tide. This time Ben hunted around for bigger rocks and they scrambled to construct the second fish trap before the tide came in and made it impossible to continue. They had barely finished it before the waves were at their knees and they decided to return to the camp to dry off and eat some of their spare fish.
Toby had suggested they save some of the fish earlier, but they found that the fish seemed to be starting to go bad, so they thought it best to eat it all rather than let it go to waste. Toby began to attempt at making more baskets after they had eaten and Ben chose to take the pole to attempt to catch more fish. He wandered carelessly away from the camp, the fears from the previous day gone and replaced instead with a sense of wonder and curiosity. He was about to step into the cold water of the lake when he heard the sound of a running beast and what seemed to be a wild wind in the trees.
As he turned to see what the noise was about, a gloved hand flashed out in front of Ben's face, grabbing him and shoving him into the water of the lake. Ben dropped his pole and came up from the water, sputtering and alarmed. The buck from the day before was rearing, his hooves landing heavily where Ben had been standing seconds before. A large bush of dead leaves crouched beside Ben in the water. It took him a moment to realize it was not a bush he was looking at, but as the deer dug at the dirt of the shore, Ben thought his attention best be put on the threatening animal rather than the seemingly friendly bush-man. The deer reared onto it's hind legs again, but finally wandered off North, toward the island's mountain.
“What the hell?!” Ben burst out as soon as it had gone and the bush-man seemed to slump into a relaxed position.
“I call him Killjoy. I bet you can guess why,” a male voice stated from inside the bush.
The bush-man lifted an arm shaped branch and pulled a mask of leaves and bone from his face, revealing the creature underneath to be very human. He could not be much older than Ben and Toby, who were both around the same age, but his golden-brown eyes held a tired wisdom that told of long
For Ben.
Ben scowled and lurched to his feet, moving to their fire pit to pick up a piece of warm charcoal to add to the writing. In sloppily written letters, he added;
and Toby.
With that done, he felt a sort of satisfaction and grinned at himself before he woke Toby to share the meat with him. It was the same type of meat as the morning before, but neither complained, simply happy to have a little extra food.
When Toby saw the writing, he laughed. It was the first, genuine laugh Ben had heard from his companion. Granted, Toby was laughing at the fact that Ben had added to the writing-which he admitted to doing-but it still brought a smile to Ben's lips, which he kept for the rest of the morning. He was starting to feel better about the whole nightly visitor thing. The person obviously had the same intelligence as them. Ben could not, however, understand why they had only shown themselves the one time at the lake. Toby told him not to worry about it, and for once, Ben decided to listen to him.
Ben, instead, wondered about why the meat had been specifically left for him. Toby had been the one who wanted to leave out an offering the night before. Ben had not done anything to impress or earn favor from this person, and thus the only thing he could think of was that they had fallen in love with him.
“That's ridiculous.” He muttered to himself.
“What is?” Toby questioned, but Ben gave no reply.
The two of them made their way down to the beach at low tide to hunt down an area for their own fish trap. When Toby found an area he liked he had Ben run back and forth to the camp to bring back the rocks. Toby arranged them how he wished, into a v just like with the one Ben had found, but on a far smaller scale. Ben could not imagine it working, but he did as Toby asked, curious nonetheless. They finished quickly and decided to make a second, closer to the shoreline of the low tide. This time Ben hunted around for bigger rocks and they scrambled to construct the second fish trap before the tide came in and made it impossible to continue. They had barely finished it before the waves were at their knees and they decided to return to the camp to dry off and eat some of their spare fish.
Toby had suggested they save some of the fish earlier, but they found that the fish seemed to be starting to go bad, so they thought it best to eat it all rather than let it go to waste. Toby began to attempt at making more baskets after they had eaten and Ben chose to take the pole to attempt to catch more fish. He wandered carelessly away from the camp, the fears from the previous day gone and replaced instead with a sense of wonder and curiosity. He was about to step into the cold water of the lake when he heard the sound of a running beast and what seemed to be a wild wind in the trees.
As he turned to see what the noise was about, a gloved hand flashed out in front of Ben's face, grabbing him and shoving him into the water of the lake. Ben dropped his pole and came up from the water, sputtering and alarmed. The buck from the day before was rearing, his hooves landing heavily where Ben had been standing seconds before. A large bush of dead leaves crouched beside Ben in the water. It took him a moment to realize it was not a bush he was looking at, but as the deer dug at the dirt of the shore, Ben thought his attention best be put on the threatening animal rather than the seemingly friendly bush-man. The deer reared onto it's hind legs again, but finally wandered off North, toward the island's mountain.
“What the hell?!” Ben burst out as soon as it had gone and the bush-man seemed to slump into a relaxed position.
“I call him Killjoy. I bet you can guess why,” a male voice stated from inside the bush.
The bush-man lifted an arm shaped branch and pulled a mask of leaves and bone from his face, revealing the creature underneath to be very human. He could not be much older than Ben and Toby, who were both around the same age, but his golden-brown eyes held a tired wisdom that told of long