silvertongue217
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- May 21, 2014
- Posts
- 6,390
The woods spoke to him
Maybe it was the peace that came on a silent night when the wind rustled and the animals were still. Maybe it was the way the forest exploded with sound in the morning as the animals went about their daily life. Maybe it was that he was utterly alone out here at least when it came to humans.
Or maybe he just liked being alone
The hunter wrapped himself in the cloak pulling out his bow and rubbing the wood oil over it one more time. He was meticulous using an up and down motion and testing the leather string that made the bow taunt.
“A weapon crafted by your own hands flies truer and straighter then any mass produced”
His instructors words rose up in his mind causing a small smile to play on his lips. He pushed the memories away before they became unpleasant and instead stood keeping his eyes on the white rabbit currently lounging in the field. He pulled an arrow out of his quiver and notched it pulling it back and drawing in a carefully measured breath at the same time. With practiced ease he settled on the target and released the arrow at the same time blowing out slowly.
The arrow sailed through the air slicing across the distant and impaling the rabbit. It gave a squeak of protest but was down before it felt any true pain just like he intended. He was always thankful for what the forest gave him and made sure any kills he made were clean.
“Thank you oh bountiful mother” The Hunter whispered approaching the kill and bringing out his skinning knife “I make this kill in your name and in thanks for all you have given me”
He cleaned and skinned the kill moving his cloak down to reveal his long black hair. He scratched idly at his rough stubble tying the rabbit with twine and throwing it over his shoulder. He spent the rest of the morning checking his traps collecting a pigeon and another hare before he finally began returning home. He whistled a jaunty tune to himself as he did breathing in the fresh air and blowing out with his nose. All thoughts of his past life and the bloody war forgotten.
For the moment at least
He reached his home a simple wooden hut by a stream and stepped in placing his kills by the door before pulling his cloak off. He put his bow down and sat getting ready for dinner and enjoying his simple life.
Unaware of how much it was about to change
Maybe it was the peace that came on a silent night when the wind rustled and the animals were still. Maybe it was the way the forest exploded with sound in the morning as the animals went about their daily life. Maybe it was that he was utterly alone out here at least when it came to humans.
Or maybe he just liked being alone
The hunter wrapped himself in the cloak pulling out his bow and rubbing the wood oil over it one more time. He was meticulous using an up and down motion and testing the leather string that made the bow taunt.
“A weapon crafted by your own hands flies truer and straighter then any mass produced”
His instructors words rose up in his mind causing a small smile to play on his lips. He pushed the memories away before they became unpleasant and instead stood keeping his eyes on the white rabbit currently lounging in the field. He pulled an arrow out of his quiver and notched it pulling it back and drawing in a carefully measured breath at the same time. With practiced ease he settled on the target and released the arrow at the same time blowing out slowly.
The arrow sailed through the air slicing across the distant and impaling the rabbit. It gave a squeak of protest but was down before it felt any true pain just like he intended. He was always thankful for what the forest gave him and made sure any kills he made were clean.
“Thank you oh bountiful mother” The Hunter whispered approaching the kill and bringing out his skinning knife “I make this kill in your name and in thanks for all you have given me”
He cleaned and skinned the kill moving his cloak down to reveal his long black hair. He scratched idly at his rough stubble tying the rabbit with twine and throwing it over his shoulder. He spent the rest of the morning checking his traps collecting a pigeon and another hare before he finally began returning home. He whistled a jaunty tune to himself as he did breathing in the fresh air and blowing out with his nose. All thoughts of his past life and the bloody war forgotten.
For the moment at least
He reached his home a simple wooden hut by a stream and stepped in placing his kills by the door before pulling his cloak off. He put his bow down and sat getting ready for dinner and enjoying his simple life.
Unaware of how much it was about to change