Page 113 - creative spark6

114 creative sparks a collection of creative writing by EPTS 115

the quails espied the advance of beyond endurance. And for the wolf was vicissitudes of every circumstance. The The California quail soared through
the formidable hawk; the snow deer rather exhausted and emaciated, it snow deer was dead, but currently it the sky with its covey, delighted. They
experienced a sense of anti-climax as acquiesced to its last agony. The world was the grey wolf that lay breathless dove through dark icy leaves and
it began to prepare for its final run; the seemed to be rotated, and slowly its on the snow. Within the fleeting seconds tangled branches onto the forest floor
hawk zipped for the quail that had seen vision of the petrified deer and the that followed the gunshot, the deer to the rhythm of a music that seemed
its presence; the determined wolf leapt surrounding faded and blurred into could smell the wolf’s blood as it audible only to them. Having found a
forward for its prey; the younger darkness. The grey wolf closed its eyes, gushed out of its host, granting the suitable patch of soil unaffected by the
hunter panicked and screamed as the and allowed nature to bring it to whiteness of the snow a deep crimson snow, the valley quails burrowed their
game suddenly changed its position; oblivion. hue. The cerulean eyes of the wolf were bellies into the soil, wriggling all about,
the quail looked into the glowing yellow The red-tailed hawk watched as the fading, losing its colour, losing its focus. flapping their wings and tousling their
pits of the eyes of its assailant; the covey sank into the forest below. There The snow deer watched as the wolf’s feathers, as was their daily ritual. The
red-tailed hawk felt something ineffable was something about that moment chest rise and fall tiringly with every quail was pleased; it felt so good to be
from the stare and vacillated; the when it looked into the young quail’s passing breath, relieved that it will live. around with its friends and relatives. It
composed hunter, impervious to his eyes; the gaze the valley quail gave the Its contracted muscles began to relax. hoped its contentment would be long-
son’s exclamation, aimed his rifle at the hawk seemed to have the power to And then the second cartridge was lived. The California valley quail voiced
wolf floating mid-air; the snow deer penetrate its body, both mind and fired. The nimrod’s competent skill was its chi-ca-go call, answered by the rest
froze, unable to control its legs; the soul; there was an enigmatic and an preeminent; the cartridge went through of the covey.
quails spotted the hawk – those that intangible sensation to it, something the the deer’s heart, killing it in a heartbeat. The boy roused from his reverie.
did not, took cues and imitated the carnivorous bird of prey had never felt His son jumped up from the rock, The content father and the joyous son
others – and all flew away, out of its until now. The brown hawk flew back elated, commended his father, and ran heading home, the dead deer and the
reach; and then the trigger was pulled, to its nest, its striped tail and wings out to observe the hunted games with dying wolf on the snow, the red-tailed
and one shot was fired, followed by spanned the sky, never to be seen curiosity. The huntsman appreciated the hawk and the covey of quails – all
hushed silence. again. boy’s keen interest in hunting. He dissolved into reality. For how long, the
The bullet pierced a hole through It was amazing and surprising what cleaned the barrel of the rifle, swung boy did not know, but he had been
the grey wolf’s lungs and the wolf life could bring to a being, all the his satchel back on his shoulder, sitting on his bed, curled up in the fetal
collapsed on the ground. Pain spread miscellaneous possibilities from and ambled to his son, adjusting his position, leaning against and looking
through its body, so excruciating its magic hat, and the unpredictable deerstalker with his left hand. through the dusty window of his room