Silence

Silence. What a falsity. Even on a hunt, it cannot ring true for each breath the brave hunter takes catches on the wind. Each step he takes is softened, but not silenced. As the dawn breaks across the sky, the song of the robin penetrates the air. The leaves rustle as the critters awaken to a new day. The hunter waits. His fur-covered feet sink deep into the snow. His shoulders shiver under his wolf-skin cloak at the bite of the harsh breeze. He grips his spears tightly between his numb, callous fingers. He steadies his breath as it pours from his nostrils as a vapor. His long, dark hair pools around his neck for warmth.

A large deer of glorious stature steps out of the bushes and into the clearing. He is eager to find food beneath the snow laden ground, but he is nervous. The presence of such a magnificent creature does not go unnoticed. The hunter shifts his weight causing a twig to snap. The buck holds his head high, scanning the tree-line for any threat. Silence. The robin continues to sing as her comrades busy themselves with scavenging. The hunter holds his breath, but that does not stop the sound of his pounding heart. Adrenaline rising, he is aware of nothing but the buck. Not the snow, the critters, nor the wind can distract him.

The deer reluctantly drops his head to the ground, his hunger taking the best of his judgement. He searches in vain. The hunter positions himself and looks to either side nodding to his party. The group swarms from the bushes, converging on their intended meal.

Silence. Such a thing cannot exist in this world.