Hunting wolvesPublished On: 02-01-2016 18:11
They found him the morning after, his body resting, sitting with his back against a pine. His hatchet’s grip, tightly in his fists. The bit* buried in the side of his neck; left and front. And with a smile of agony and relief on his face. A wide smile, ever so grim, but undoubtedly one of relief and thankfulness. For everything was over and there would be no more pain and no more Ηim. At last, himself won’t be haunting Him any more. Himself won’t be hunting Him any more. And his fellow villagers prayed and wished that at least he has, finally, forgiven himself. Perhaps the wolves he hunted and killed for all his life, have welcomed him in their pack, roaming in the forest, forever. No more wolf hunters.
* “Bit” is the sharp part of the hatchet’s head.Add to favorites