Two Week Writing Challenge - Day 5
5. Animals: Choose an animal. Write about it!
Hunter
Brandon Winstock crouched behind a large oak, resting his back against the cool bark. A drop of sweat ran down his temple and into his eye. He squeezed his eyes shut in the hope of alleviating the sting. He regulated his breathing and tried to remain statue still. But his fingers twitched and he couldn’t help but roll his sore shoulders and shift his feet in the brush. Both hands were wrapped tightly around the new crossbow his father gifted him that morning. The gift was a symbol of Brandon’s new status as his father’s hunting partner.
But after two hours of trekking through the forest by his father side, it was evident that Brandon would make a terrible demon hunter. Firstly, unlike his father’s short, compact build, Brandon was all long, flailing limbs. He managed to trip three times and was only able to blame an overzealous rock on one of those occasions. Secondly, Brandon was not synonymous with quiet. Rather, Brandon found simply breathing quietly to be a challenge on a good day. And today was definitely turning out to be a very bad day indeed.
Brandon didn’t want to be a demon hunter. It was possible that he found the idea horrifying simply because he was too sensitive. Back when Brandon was still at Myers High School, Shelly Beckers announced very loudly in Mr. Sign’s biology class that he was a “sensitive little girl” for hurling during their first day of frog dissection. But Brandon didn’t care if he was a “sensitive little girl” and he especially didn’t understand why he should feel insulted for being called a “little girl” when most of the little girls he had ever met had been absolutely terrifying. But Brandon did care about the very likely possibility of disappointing his father.
His father, Abe Winstock, came from a long line of demon hunters. When he was twelve years old he had killed his first demon, and three years later had taken down three hordes of a particularly nasty breed of fire demons who had massacred an entire village of innocent people weeks earlier. Brandon’s father was a legend in the small community of demon hunters. And Brandon was supposed to follow in his footsteps.
Brandon wasn’t sure of the exact moment he had lost his father in the forest. After the morning spent unintentionally scaring away almost all the forest animals with his heavy tread, Brandon had tried his hardest to focus on finding a solid demon trail. Sure that he had identified a trail of a fire demon’s red goo, Brandon had raced off even as he heard his father calling his name. The promise of finding a demon nest and impressing his father had been too much to slow him down. And now the trail he was so sure of finding was gone and he was lost. Hopelessly, utterly lost. His father was going to be so pissed once he found him.
Just as Brandon decided to start heading back, he heard an animal yelp from over his shoulder. His entire body tensed before he slowly raised his bow up to his face. Still crouched against the tree, he cocked the notch and held it back at the ready with a trembling finger. Very slowly, he turned over his shoulder but kept his body flush to the tree's bark. He searched the forest clearing for any signs of the creature who had made the sound. There, out of the corner of his eye, Brandon saw a flash of orange and brown against the overwhelming green landscape before it took off. Brandon lowered his bow and leaped to his feet. He began to race through the forest, trying his best to follow the scurrying creature ten yards ahead. After a long, breathless chase, he emerged from the thick forest vegetation and entered another clearing.
At the edge of the clearing was a large dirt mound between two tall trees. At the center of the mound was an animal nest. It was made of various twigs and green leaves and was burrowed a few feet into the mound in order for the occupants to nestle inside and protect themselves from the elements. Trying to adopt a light tread, Brandon crept closer to the nest until he could peer inside.
Staring back at him were three sets of blue eyes. There were snouts, tilted ears, and bundles of reddish brown fur. It was a skulk of foxes. Brandon couldn’t tell if they were male or female, but he recognized them as red foxes, the largest of the species. This was all knowledge that he had gained from Mr. Sign's biology class. Brandon had done much better in the class once the dead frogs were off the table.
Brandon was in awe over the creatures' beauty and was astounded that they allowed him so close to their home. He dropped his crossbow to the forest floor and crawled on his hands and knees to get a closer look. The three foxes were huddled close together and seemed to be protecting another fox in the center.
Probably a cub, Brandon guessed, and stared at the three sets of blue eyes that stared intently back at him.
Then there was a little whine sound and Brandon drew in a sharp breath. He didn’t think the sound came from one of the foxes. He peered closely, watching as the foxes inched back and revealed the creature they were protecting. It was a toddler. But not a human toddler. It was a little boy fire demon.
Brandon had no idea how a little demon boy found a skulk of foxes. Possibly he lost his parents or they died and he was left alone. It was not unheard of for different species of demons to coexist closely with animals, but Brandon had never heard of foxes adopting a demon boy as their own.
Brandon stared at the creature before him. Liquid red eyes peered back at him curiously from a round, pale face. The boy had the face of an angel, bowed pouty lips, chubby cheeks and a button nose. But curling up from his towhead was an impressive set of curved black horns. His little fingers ended in long black claws and he sat on whip thin tail. When highly agitated or battle ready, the tail would release flammable gas and ignite, like a sword of flames. After peering intently at Brandon for a moment, the curious expression on the boy's face disappeared and was replaced with pure glee. The little demon smiled, revealing a set of baby fangs. Once reaching adulthood, the fangs would enlarge and have the ability to decapitate a human head with ease. The little creature clapped his pudgy hands and made grappy motions toward Brandon. Brandon backed away instinctively.
It took only a second for the demon child to understand Brandon's rejection and his face crumbled. Big wails thundered from the nest and the boy's face scrunched up in agitation. The foxes began to howl.
Brandon cursed out loud and without thought reached out toward the demon boy. Instantly, the boy's tears disappeared and he leaped into Brandon's arms. Brandon cuddled the boy close. The demon boy's skin was baby soft and overly warm. His hair smelled of fire and ash. He cooed into Brandon's chest and looked up at him with trusting red eyes.
Staring into the little boy's face and falling instantly in love, Brandon confirmed his earlier suspicion. He was offically the worst demon hunter in existence.
