The hunted prey galloped through the thick, dense dark forest. The prey dodging tree after tree, using fire eyes to see. Stomping on the ground hard, braking color leaves the prey leaped faster. The wild creature knew these woods well. The creature couldn't end in the open field. The prey glanced back three seconds fast. First second think about where the predator shall be, another second remind itself to keep on running, third second wondering where to go, to get away. The creature quick snaps its head forward, tripping, falling, into a bush. Thorns tear at his skin. Scratch after scratch he raged in pain like a horse kicking. He could feel every thorn pierce his skin. He bucked out of the bush with his horns and he was gone again.
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He could see the smoke and the killer's head. He ran down a path only some knew that led to the open field but he knew that was his last hope. The prey didn’t understand how he didn’t see or notice the smell of the hunter. “There shall be more than one.” he declared. He ran through the path that split to territory of the birds. He ran through “Hey!” “What’s the ruckus about?” “Why so many loud noises!?” “Get out!” “This isn’t your territory.” Every bird of big feathers and color all complained and screeched with anger. The wild animal was surprised about all the yell but he ignored it and spoke,”There is a stick of death close. Everyone hide, take cover. NOW!” The birds cooed and cawed, every which way with anxiety and hid out of …show more content…
He hit the dense forest of dark and scarce. Then the last step out to the field. The prey ducked low into the field of golden weeds like a color of a wolves eye. If there was something in the field he wouldn’t know it. His white tail bobbed in the weeds with every leg pushing forward. He smelled a strange scent that the wind was pushing down from the field drifting to his wet nose. All was silent still but he knew it was “them”, A hunter. THe third loud bang rose from the field echoing out to his ears. It was farther away from him not like the other stick of death. He was not alone in this grazing field. He glanced up a smidge out of the swift weeds blowing in the wind, only to see the tail of three others. He could smell the scent of the female and one other, a male. He followed them making sure death was not near nor wounds were found. He smelled the scent of them on either side of the field. He knew it would be a trap as they were being pushed down the small field into the apple orchard. There was no smell of “them”, he knew the wind was at the pursuers advantage. Luck was the way to get out of this, no one would survive this. He approached the others with caution. “Is everyone alright?” he asked as they all ducked low in the grass. “We are all fine.” the other male replied, with a deep firm voice. He was much older than the rest. He thought, thinking who this could be. It's the dominant buck, head of the herd, the
He could see the smoke and the killer's head. He ran down a path only some knew that led to the open field but he knew that was his last hope. The prey didn’t understand how he didn’t see or notice the smell of the hunter. “There shall be more than one.” he declared. He ran through the path that split to territory of the birds. He ran through “Hey!” “What’s the ruckus about?” “Why so many loud noises!?” “Get out!” “This isn’t your territory.” Every bird of big feathers and color all complained and screeched with anger. The wild animal was surprised about all the yell but he ignored it and spoke,”There is a stick of death close. Everyone hide, take cover. NOW!” The birds cooed and cawed, every which way with anxiety and hid out of …show more content…
He hit the dense forest of dark and scarce. Then the last step out to the field. The prey ducked low into the field of golden weeds like a color of a wolves eye. If there was something in the field he wouldn’t know it. His white tail bobbed in the weeds with every leg pushing forward. He smelled a strange scent that the wind was pushing down from the field drifting to his wet nose. All was silent still but he knew it was “them”, A hunter. THe third loud bang rose from the field echoing out to his ears. It was farther away from him not like the other stick of death. He was not alone in this grazing field. He glanced up a smidge out of the swift weeds blowing in the wind, only to see the tail of three others. He could smell the scent of the female and one other, a male. He followed them making sure death was not near nor wounds were found. He smelled the scent of them on either side of the field. He knew it would be a trap as they were being pushed down the small field into the apple orchard. There was no smell of “them”, he knew the wind was at the pursuers advantage. Luck was the way to get out of this, no one would survive this. He approached the others with caution. “Is everyone alright?” he asked as they all ducked low in the grass. “We are all fine.” the other male replied, with a deep firm voice. He was much older than the rest. He thought, thinking who this could be. It's the dominant buck, head of the herd, the