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 Hunt beneath the moonby Rudi Kvala Page 2 of 7 [Warning: Adult content. Do not read if you are under 18 and/or if it is illegal in your area to do so] Of cold springs, of forests where we hide of heat. We are a form of paradise. That's how God made things. We are gentle and pure. That's one thing I don't agree with. Maybe we forgot the reason for which God made us. Not to be hunt. But to live in His Glory. Not to be killed by men. But to take care of the world. That's how I consider. Klearinth is a name, invented by my womanly thoughts. In one thousand years it may be a toothpaste brand. In an advertising, on a TV. That's how people think. But I don't like it this way. That's why I'm here, now. To accomplish an order.
He didn't even notice for how long we've blinked over his words. Or maybe he's only pretending not to. He's quick, and he may sense something around him, maybe our smell, woman smell. Or maybe he's sensing the hind. - So you're not belonging to the Master? To whom, then? - To nobody. He has finished the brandy. He would ask for another one. We would give him another one, if we should. He leans over the table. - I saw you as you entered the bar, he says. Nobody looked at you. As if you wouldn't be real... You came to my table and sat beside me, with no fear and no shyness. You bought me a drink. You ask me if I hunt, when everybody knows that's what keeps me alive. You're not from the mansion house, I would have heard of you, one way or another, you have a strange name ... Even now, as we talk, nobody is watching us... I should be worried, isn't it? We would consider more brandy. Let him drink, let him forget his fear and remember his stories. The world sees me. Only me; the Hind is carried deep down, well hidden. The world sees of me as much as I want and the way I want it. Nobody will come to ask me who I am and to whom do I belong, nobody will come closer as long as I don't want to. No common people can see the Hind. Excepting, of course, a hunter. Like this one, here. But even he can barely see a thing, the brandy blinds his senses and, by all means, he's not expecting our individuals to rush over him. He's only worried. Thus, let's give him some tranquillity. Let's give him brandy. - You used to be a warrior, we try to make him speak after another pot of brandy is offered. - I've reached as far as Jerusalem, he sighs. I was young, I hadn't even have idea of women, at that time, when I left... I was in the old Master's suite, may God rest him in peace, I had to ran behind him all the time with a bunch of arrows, he seldom used the sword, he liked the bow because, he said, he can't stand the stinky smell of Saracens... He put the bow in my hands. With him I hunted for the first time. And with him I've found out what despair and what death the women are... He gives us a grinning face; the brandy is swinging in him, wet and coarse. - And that's why I have always chosen the whores, he follows, they only ask for money... or something to eat. Copyright © 1999, 2000, 2001 Rudi Kvala, sffworld.com. All rights reserved. No part of this may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the author. The author has submitted the work in accordance with and in agreement with the following Submission Guidelines. |
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