Showing posts with label hunter of hope. Show all posts
Previous parts (in order)
Hunter of Hope
Wild One
Wave Of Lavender

Carton of Milk


Do you ever wake up and forget everything? For a long thirty-second interval, you have no idea who you are, or where you are. You're just a stranger in a strange room, no other feelings just distorted. Until your brain winds a little faster and you sink into your reality, that's exactly how I feel at this moment in time. Only my reality is alone in a place I once called home, yearning for some company but holding onto my independence like I am some sort of adult or something.

I crawl across the room, my legs weak. It's the floorboards from downstairs that make me jump to my feet. I hold my breath carefully taking down one step at a time slowly. As I reach the  bottom, I see the dark wood door slightly opening. My heart is pounding it's all I can hear banging against my eardrums. I wipe my damp hands on my bare legs. Swinging my body in the kitchen I notice a milk carton sitting on the edge of the four-cornered table in the centre of my kitchen. As I got closer the smell became familiar, that sweet lavender scent, it was back. I examine the carton, who drinks straight from the carton, especially when it's not even their carton. 

"Sorry about that, I was a little parched." A voice growled behind me, I dropped the carton of milk.

Hunter Of Hope - Carton of Milk

Tuesday, 25 October 2016

Previous parts (in order)
Hunter of Hope
Wild One
Wave Of Lavender


Lupus


The first time I'd ever saw a pack it belonged to my older brother; Lupus.  I would have been just a pup I didn't know any better. I idolised them, they were everything a pack should be. Fifteen individual strong souls, they were never without one another. They had an unbreakable bond, my brother was their leader. I was always so proud of him, but I was young and naive. I didn't know any better.
We used to be close me and him, he taught me everything I know. From hunting to self-defense, those were the good days. Where we would run through fields together, he'd test my speed daily. I wouldn't be who I am today without my brother, but that doesn't make him any less of a dangerous asshole. I miss him sometimes; when I am wandering across the floor boards of my log house, boredom does that. It makes you forget the bad for a moment, it makes you miss people.

These walls are killing my brain, taunting me with memories. Thinking of Lupus and his pack always makes me feel lonely, I wasn't good enough to join them, I knew that from the start. He threw me out, to find my own. Yet I've done nothing but wander in a log house, there is enough room here for a pack, a small one at first, but finding one, better yet creating one isn't easy. That's the long-term goal, screw my brother and his pack, I won't be seeing them again anytime soon.


Hunter of Hope - Lupus

Monday, 29 August 2016

Previous parts (in order)
Hunter of Hope
Wild One


Wave of Lavender

 The heart in my chest felt heavy, and my body started to feel limp. I was out for too long, and now it's taking a toll on my body.  I arrived back to the wooden log I called my home, it somehow wasn't how I left it. Nothing was physically touched, but it didn't need to be. It was evident someone or something had been here, evident in the foreign scent they left behind. 
I wasn't afraid to search the house; after all the owner of the household must protect what is theirs. I didn't find anything. Needless to say, it was the first time I had come across such a scent, it was dark, almost intoxicating yet refreshing with a wave of lavender, it wasn't the last time I'd meet the scent either.
I would have been annoyed at the anonymous intruder, the one I'd never met since the scent was new to me, but I was annoyed more at myself for not bringing back good game, instead I allowed myself to get caught up with exploring.
Tomorrow, tomorrow I will bring back the best game, and I won't come back until I do. 
Hungrily I made way into the kitchen, eager to find something, anything to eat. Living alone had its perks, like not having to share or bring back heavy loads of game, instead I just wanted to bring home decent game, something more than Ferrell.
From takings I had a small feast, a few gooseberries, a handful of chestnuts  and half a squirrel, I had eaten the other half on my journey today only now I wish I hadn't. 
I felt the need to bath, even though I was a little more tired. Out back was a well, it was small and made of stone. I hardly used it, due to long the Summer the only water it supplied was warm. For a bath it was perfect, with the small pale made of wood and iron I trekked back and forth from the well to my large tin bath. It took me about an hour to fill it, and even then it wasn't even half full. Returning the pale back to its well I got a waft of the intoxicating scent with the wave of lavender.
Immediately my guard went up, and my eyes searched around my wooden log. No one on the street, no one in the fields. The scent was there and then it was gone. I felt the immediate need to return inside, I shook off the moment and went into my little made up bathroom. 
I stripped myself of my clothing and simply sat in the tin bath. The water was warm as I figured it would be,  it felt almost foreign. For a while now I had been accustomed to cold showers, I say shower I mean a pathetic almost rusted pip that runs up my bathroom wall with a little knob that allows water to spurt out. I positioned the tin bath underneath so I never soaked the floor. 
As I sat in the bath I looked at nothing but the water, I sat for a while before I even began to bath myself. By the time I was done the water was almost cold, but I didn't care. I dried myself off with the smallest of towels, I didn't bother putting clothes on. Upstairs I went and climbed into bed, where I'd lay for the next ten hours.

 Next Part;
Lupus

Hunter of Hope - Wave of Lavender

Wednesday, 8 June 2016

Previous parts (in order)
Hunter of Hope


Wild One

The air inflamed my lungs, my body aching as I force my legs to carry me forward. I'm not even running yet the twigged ground beneath me is already make me feel dizzy. This is my first proper outing since I began living on my own, it's only taken me two weeks. It feels like two years, I have been out but only to gather supplies and even then that was within two yards of the house. Today I decided to go out further, mainly to scope the place out, and slightly hoping for better game my recent meals have been a little below par. I haven't seen anyone so far either, this place has been too quiet. 

Since the last full moon things have quietened down, no growls past windows, no blood spattered trees. The only violence I have witness has been inside my own head. I cannot be blamed, it was not my fault I was abandoned.  I expect it won't last long, once the new breeds make their way over this side of the river the violence and the packs will be back, they always are. 

The barks of the trees become darker, this means I am pretty far in. My walk turns into a sprint, and I am searched the grounds for wild meat. Instead of pain it feels lustrous stretching my legs and allowing myself the freedom of the forest. It feels refreshing being out in the wild again, after everything I didn't think I would've made it. The last wild one, Hope Dacia, who knew I'd be the only one left? 

Hours later I allow myself to sit near a stream, take in the rocks and tiny fish avoiding them. The water lamely gushing down the narrow road. Looking around the trees were much darker, and the leaves above were down looking like shadows. It was light and now suddenly it's like darkness has taken it in a flash.

Next Part

Hunter of Hope - Wild One

Saturday, 28 May 2016

345 days clean. I would say 345 days strong but I’d be lying, each day I grow weaker. The need lingers and some days I come close to breaking my streak, but I am reminded by the glare. That glare of the foul creature that haunts the sky, the professor that keeps me and my kind in order.   Today is the day I am supposed to celebrate, celebrate my secret. The celebration has not started well, I have been awake over an hour and yet I have not moved my sorry ass out off of this pit I call a bed.

Move out on your own they said, stand on your own two feet they told me, it would do me the world of good. Again I am reminded why I probably shouldn’t accept the advice I receive. I wander across the empty floorboards, barefoot ignoring the cold of forgetting to shut all the windows the night before, as usual. The only noises are my own, cracking of my bones as I lazily stretch to the kitchen.


I cannot help miss the smell of thick grease from grizzled bacon on the stove each morning, or the disgusting waft of vegetables anytime the fridge was opened. It’s different now, no one is cooking me bacon and no one is filling the fridge. Independence is a cruel thing, you hunt for yourself and you provide for yourself. And if you don’t? You hear the consequence as it rumbles through you preventing any possible chance of sleep.


~.~
Parts in order;
Wild One
Wave of Lavender

Hunter of Hope

Thursday, 19 May 2016

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