Dogs love rainy days

  There were puddles of rain everywhere, forming small lakes, an interconnected system of fluids that occupied a large area in the center of the park. The storm that had hit the city the night before had been very strong and it was a miracle that all that remained from it were a couple of puddles and some tree branches that workers from the city had already cleaned up, right before the largest amount of people came into the park in the morning.

 Some children had already begun to enjoy the mud in the puddles and the parents let them be, seeing it was good they could at least go out to the park and have some fun.

 Pet owner Loretta had decided too that her small dog needed to breath after being kept inside for the duration of the storm, which had lasted about three straight days. The poor dog didn’t really like to live in an enclosed environment and would get really annoying very fast. Loretta walked the poor Roger all around the park, enjoying the mud and the wet trees and the large amount of other dogs that had also come out to play and were visibly as excited as Roger to be in the park.

 Loretta decided to let him off his leash, as she knew he wouldn’t go very far. She had trained him to follow only her voice and it seemed to work some weeks ago when they visited a relative of hers in the countryside and Roger would come back after having scared every single sheep possible.

 So the dog went away with other dogs as his owner chatted with the other humans. The first thing the dogs did was going to the large area where everything was mud. They enjoyed it a lot as they could play with one another while feeling the refreshing scent and texture of wet dirt. For a dog, that combination was a winning one and it was really difficult to explain why. Maybe it was because it reminded them of their most basic instincts; of the jungles and forests their ancestors had gone through, hunting, before their domestication.

 After almost covering their entire bodies with mud and under the close surveillance of at least one of the humans, they ran to the place where all the fallen branches had been put into a big pile. It was a very big mound made of sticks and leaves. Each one of the dogs tried to grab a stick to play with but most of them were just able to pull some leaves out of them. The branches were very thick and it was after several minutes struggling that they realized the mound was full of bugs.

 There were some beetles and worms and a myriad of other little creatures that had come down to the ground when the storm had pulled every single one of those branches down. The whole ecosystem of the trees had been messes with by the storm but that’s something neither dogs nor humans care about. The dogs barked at the branches for some time at which point one of the owners had to come with a special whistle and distract them away from the pile and closer to the rest of the people.

 The dogs obeyed for a while but then they left for the other side of the park, where the real lake was located. The geese and ducks that lived in it were nowhere to be seen; possibly resting in some of the homes humans had built for them. The dogs normally loved to chase them; barking at them and making them run like crazies. But the surface of the lake was now like a mirror and the water was as cold as it was normally in the winter.

 However, the dogs encountered a group of elderly humans entering the water. They were doing so through an area that looked like a tropical beach but without the palm trees or the warm climate. Yet, there were about nine men and women there, dressed up in their swimming outfits, about to enter the chilly water.

 Somehow, the dogs felt it was something that had to be seen and, besides, they knew elderly humans were mostly kind to them and loved to pet them and feed them. So there was probably no problem if they got near.

 The humans slowly entered the water, laughing and complaining. But after some time they were all inside, asking others how cold it was and saying the water felt really good all around their bodies. The lake also had many branches and leaves and felt dirtier than usual but that didn’t bother them

 The dogs got bored fast and decided to move on into a square were many events took place. There were fountains, from where they drank some water, and many children that would come and pet them, some softer, some harder. Contrary to popular belief, not all dogs like children. Some of them loved the firm hand of an adult human instead of the hesitating one of a child. They were too insecure for some of them and dogs needed reassuring instead of hesitation.

 When one of them started barking to a girl, who instantly began to cry, one of the owners came and took him away. With humans, if you overreacted in any time, you could lose all the privileges you enjoyed, so the smartest dogs tried to be as calm as possible, only sounding the alarm if something really didn’t made sense to them.

 The pack went on to the only area of the park they had not explored that day: the forest. It wasn’t really a proper forest, instead a small area covered in the former woodland that had been present in the area before the city started to grow without control. It had been preserved because some birds would rest there in the spring and in the summer and even in the months leading to winter when every single flying creature escaped to warmer climates.

 The best thing to do in those woods was to smell the ground and everything around it. Some branches had been picked up here and the dogs were eager to try and pick them up, as a present for their owners. At least half of them, eager to show some proof of how much love they had to give, had already grabbed a branch and left the woods to go their masters and show what they had found. That would probably begin a whole game that could last for hours.

 Only some of them remained, of them was Roger. He was not the type of dog that liked branches. He loved the toys he had back home, the kind that made a wheezy noise when he grabbed them in his snout. Branches were not that big for him so he kept on smelling the floor of the forest and noticed something almost right away: the smell of piss.

 He instantly went crazy, eager to find out the source. But as he sniffed more of it and other dogs followed him, he realized that odor had not come from a dog. Actually, it hadn’t come from any other animal. He recognized it as the smell of human piss. Roger knew it well from his adventures in Loretta’s bathroom. He noticed, though, that the smell was a bit stronger this time and decided to follow the trail, because there was one.

 The dogs then arrived at the thickest part of the forest that was located by the perimeter fence that enclosed the whole park. The odors here were strangely stronger and it was very particular because the storm was strong enough to clean up all of that. Any human who had pissed around those trees, had to have done it after the storm was over, very early in the day, even in the dark.

 Then Roger began to bark. Others dog did the same. What he sniffed next was not pissed and it was something he knew was bad. So he barked loud and clear. The human that followed them came first and remained speechless for a minute, then left yelling, probably asking for help. The rest of the owners and many others came in, including two humans in uniform. They got closer to Roger and other dogs and checked what they had found.

 It was the body of a male human, all covered in leaves. His pants were still wet and his mouth was covered by some kind of plastic. Roger kept barking until Loretta came and took him away. Apparently some humans did not like to stay indoors, just like him.

Pomp and Circumstances

   Every single member of the staff was very nervous. It was well known by them that when the McAllen family decided to visit, it was a trying moment for the hotel and everyone in it. But the McAllen’s were very rich and they knew they could use that kind of clients. Rich people were not coming to the hotel anymore, or maybe to the region… Anyway, not many wealthy heirs and heiresses wanted to visit Lake Flora in the summer. Other vacation spots had become more popular and the lake had lost some of its former splendor. But the McAllen’s were a family of traditions and they had come to the lake every year for sixty years, so they weren’t going to break that custom.

 The day they arrived, every single staff member had to stop whatever it was they were doing and just run to the main hall and line up on either side of the red carpet they had installed exclusively for the event. The other guests, which were not many, had been barred from the main hall and had to use the service elevator in order to get to the their rooms or from there to anywhere else in the hotel. Some of them complained but as none of them were as rich and famous as the McAllen’s, their opinion was not very important. That sounds awful, especially when the hotel always cared about every single guest with care. But this time it was different because the McAllen’s were the difference between a definitive closure of the hotel or their permanence in the business.

 When they arrived, everyone was as still as a statue but that didn’t mean that people weren’t excited or curious. After all, it had been a year since they had been there for their last visit and many staff members had entered the hotel after that so they were really excited about meeting people that were practically royalty. If nobility existed in any way in this country, the McAllen’s would surely be a very important and powerful family, maybe even more that they already were. Arthur McAllen, the main figure, had made his family richer by buying several mines around the world as well as having an almost complete monopoly on several markets such as bananas, sugar and tea.

 He was the first one to come in and every single staff member had to bow as he passed. Mister McAllen seemed overjoyed and the first thing he said to the hotel manager was that the place was as beautiful as he had always remembered. He congratulated everyone and moved on to the main counter. After him, came Lady McAllen. She was a true noblewoman, daughter of a duke from England. Her father owned several newspapers. She walked among the people, greeting some of them. And then came the children. The girl was already a women, very beautiful but visibly very annoyed by the whole concept of spending her holiday in the lake. She rushed over the red carpet and joined her parents fast.

 The young boy that followed him was ecstatic. He looked at everything, greeted some of the staff and asked a kitchen maid if she knew if there were monsters in the lake. She laughed at the comment but the hotel manager gave her a look of disapproval, which stopped her laughter. The last person to come in through the door was the mother of Arthur McAllen. Everyone in the region and the country knew Callista McAllen very well. She had been the wife of a governor that years later became prime minister. And he had been a particularly bad prime minister. Many people said he had died of an illness related to madness but no one was really sure. The truth was every staff member looked at her, interested by her story.

 The older woman crossed the red carpet, oblivious to the preparations for their arrival, getting to her son and demanding him for a bed in order to rest her feet. A waiter gave each one of them lemonade, made with fruit grown in the hotel surroundings, and then several younger bell boys rushed outside and started taking the luggage to the presidential suite. They all signed the guest book and then the manager asked Arthur McAllen if he would like to pose for picture. It was kind of a tradition of the hotel, so the family complied although only the men were happy to do it. The women looked annoyed and tired. So the photographer, who happened to be the groundskeeper, had to do it fast.

 Moments later, everyone was in the presidential suite, their empty luggage in a big closet and all their clothes and belonging in drawers and closets all over the room. The place was very overwhelming, if one wasn’t very used to the golden glow of its walls and the overpowering smell of the perfume used when the maids cleaned up the bedroom and bathroom. It was just too much for every one except for such a wealthy family as the McAllen’s. The women decided to rest and retired to their rooms. The men changed clothes and decided to take a walk. When they arrived to the hall, the red carpet was no longer there or staff members. Everything was back to normal. But they didn’t really pay attention. They just crossed the main doors and went outside.

 Arthur and his son walked towards the lake and there, the father would tell his son several stories about the monster that many had claimed lived beyond the surface of the lake. Some said it had wings, some others said it was like fish but huge in size. Father and son threw stones at the water as they shared stories about the mythical beast. They also explored the woods around the hotel and discovered the place were the lemon trees grew high and mighty. For Arthur, this place brought the best memories from his childhood and he wanted to past that on to his son.

 But his wife and daughter weren’t as happy to be there. The next day, her wife refused to have breakfast in their private dining room, and preferred to eat alone in their bedroom. The daughter wasn’t a much easier person to handle, especially because she did come out of her bedroom. In just a few hours, the staff had come to hate her even more than any other guest in their time there. She was bossy and very rude for such a rich family. She would tell them how to do their chores, even as she had never moved a finger in her life to do anything. And she tired everyone by always saying that her future husband was a commander in the army and he would have the power to improve this lost region and make it productive, instead of just a place for old people to catch some sun.

 But the elderly person in her group would not have agreed. The oldest McAllen was maybe the nastiest and that was because she insisted, every morning in sitting in the main table of the dining hall down in the ground floor. She wanted to seat where her dead husband also sat when he was governor and prime minister. The thing was Callista McAllen had lost it several years ago. Her son was too kind and didn’t want to realize it but she was losing her mind by the minute and she was becoming more and more demanding and rude because of it. She even attempted to hit a waiter on the second day because he had delivered her tea colder than she liked it.

 And the McAllen’s never apologized. The waiter had to leave for the kitchens immediately and he was relocated to another part of the hotel, were he would not be affected by Callista’s insanity. Besides minor incidents like that, everything was going very well with the McAllen’s summer stay. The manager love to do the counts of how much money he would win by the end of the season. He was relieved more than happy because it was not mystery that the hotel was going under: there was not that much money to pay every single person that worked there and attendance had been so low that year that they had even though of closing for some time. That’s why the McAllen’s had to be treated like royals.

 But then one night news from the capital came in and everyone was awoken by the man carrying the letters, because it wasn’t just one but many. He demanded to see Arthur McAllen, who had to be woken up and rushed into the ground floor. There, the man gave him all the letters. And every single one of them told exactly the same story: their neighboring country had attacked a border post and then a whole border town. It was war and the government had demanded for the wealthy to help them in this hour of need. McAllen asked for a pen and paper to write his response, that he was going to give all the money he could to the cause. But the man that had brought the letters stopped him and told him that not only they required his money, but his presence to in the battlefield.

 Everyone in the hall became mute. And it was the first of many silences they would hear for the following years. The war grew larger and more and more lethal. Arthur McAllen would die months later, as well as the commander who was going to marry his daughter. The hotel closed indefinitely the following winter and no one would ever hear about Lake Flore until after the war, when it would become synonym of madness, as the hotel was bought by the ministry of wealth fare and then transformed to an asylum. The McAllen tradition and dynasty died in the war, as the women died of sorrow and the men of war.

Our nature

   Alex had come to the lake before many times. His dad brought him and the rest of the family for fishing or camping or long walks to breath fresh air. His father had always loved the outdoors and it was one of the most important things he passed on to his son. Alex loved to be outside, not really getting why so many people stayed inside with their computers and other machines. He also had a computer and a cellphone but he could disconnect easily in order to enjoy the world outside. Normally, his day would include a visit to the park; at least a shot one, to feel less stressed and just relax for a while. But a park in the city still had pollution around and filth and he decided one day that his next holiday would be spent in the lake of his memories.

 He told his family he would go, hoping they would go with him but that didn’t work out as he planned: his mother did not like to leave home and she had never really been the kind to love dirt, so she passed but asked him to take many pictures. His siblings had similar answers, only less precise about why they denied his request. Something about the children, their jobs, a meeting… He decided it wasn’t his business and that, if they decided to come, he would be there. Alex planned to stay a three-day weekend, in order to really explore and live again those days where his father and him would walk for hours in order to photograph rare animals or find “new” places in the forest.

 The weekend began and he arrived very early on Saturday, leaving his car in the small parking lot that the national park had available for campers. There, Alex saw the first thing that had changed since the days of his father-son trips: the parking lot had been expanded and a lot of people were already there, mainly from the neighboring towns. Apparently they had all thought, like him, that camping was a nice plan for the weekend. He grabbed all of his equipment and was about to begin walking when a ranger stopped him and asked him if he was going to camp. That was a very stupid question, seeing what Alex was carrying but he decided to just nod. Apparently, spots were now assigned.

 He began walking, now with a map provided by the ranger, in which he could see the exact spot where he had been authorized to camp. His father would have been furious, as he had always liked to camp wherever he wanted, sometimes by the lake, other times by the river. But Alex decided not to complain and just thought of visiting his father’s camping spots later that day. When he arrived to his spot, he found out that at least five other tents were already up in that area. It was outrageous as in the past there were never more than two tents next to each other, and not only because of attendance but because of safety issues. But there was no one to complain to and going back to the entrance would be lost time so he just dealt with it.

 Putting on the tent was no easy task. He had forgotten that, back when he came with his family, his parents were the ones to do all the chores previous to the proper camping experience. Alex and his siblings would just play around the area until it was all magically done and they never really asked if they could help or how it was done. Alex tried for a whole hour to put up his tent but all the little sticks and the stakes and the proper tent were too complicated for him. He didn’t get the diagram that was in the instructions, that at least existed, and had no idea what to do next. But suddenly an older man from a neighboring tent helped him out without saying a word. In a few minutes the tent was up and the old man gone.

 He waited there, extending his sleeping bag in the ground, but the older man did not come out of his tent again. In the silence, Alex could hear the sound of a radio and realized his noise putting up the tent must have distracted the man from some game and that’s why he had gotten that much needed hand. When everything was in order, he decided to go back to the entrance and ask for another spot but he realized the number of cars in the parking lot had doubled and that would mean there were no good spots left. At least his was near the lake. He decided to go there next and hoped it hadn’t changed as much as the rest of the park. He even felt the trees were different, if not fewer.

 His jaw dropped the moment he reached the edge of the lake. Back in the day, only a handful of people enjoyed fishing and swimming there. The water was very cold so it wasn’t like many people cared for a swim. But now, somehow, everyone was in the mood. There were at least a hundred, if not more, people in the water. They were playing with beach balls and squirt guns, laughing loudly and eating all kinds of fast foods along the shore. Alex was surprised he didn’t see any vendors around, with the amount of people eating. Something he noticed was the absence of boats so he decided to ask a couple that was close about it. According to them, fishing had been banned in the park.

 So now, that was gone. He had brought his old fishing rod but now it was useless, as well as his binoculars in order to find birds. He had noticed no chirping or any kind of bird noises in the whole area he had walked through. He decided to go to the edge of the park and hope for a better perspective on things. He couldn’t get off the smell of ketchup and mustard and the images of fat kids crying and playing in the lake. That must be discriminative in some way but he didn’t mind. He was just hurt to see that a very dear memory of his childhood was being destroyed slowly by what was supposedly called progress.

 He reached the area that his father and him had explored so many times and he was happy to see it just like he had seen it all those years ago. No yelling and crying of children and adults here. Not the sound of music or cars. This place was the real forest, the thing for which he had come to this place. He walked around, taking some pictures with a small camera he had recently bought. He was even able to spot a couple of birds and was certain he had seen a deer but maybe it had been his imagination. Suddenly, he remembered a day with his dad in which, after a particularly long walk, they had discovered a small cave by a cliff. The place was beautiful, having a great view over the forest and a cooler environment in the summer. So Alex tried to locate it.

 He walked for hours, just like back then, trying to remember the trail from his childhood. After a couple of hours, he realized he was probably lost. He had found the cliff but not the cave and realized that it would soon be night. He decided to look for the cave one more hour and if he didn’t find it he would come back later. Then, he heard something. At first he thought it was the wind but then he realized they were human voices. Maybe someone was in danger; maybe they had an accident and needed care. He tried to follow the noises and only realized what was happening when he stumbled to the ground, twisting his ankle and looking at the entrance of the cave he had known as a child.

 But they were no children or parents there, only a couple of teenagers having sex. They stopped right when they saw his face on the ground. They screamed as they pulled up their pants and, from nowhere, the same ranger that had assigned him his spot appeared running. He told them to stay still and to walk in front of him back to the entrance. They took a while but they finally got there just as the sun was setting. The ranger and the others entered his small office and he asked what had been going on in the cave. The teenagers said Alex was a pervert that was watching as they kissed and Alex said that was bullshit, because they had been fucking and not kissing. The guard asked him if he had been looking at them for long.

 Alex realized the ranger was on their side, as he looked at him with disgust. He told the truth, stating that he had been looking for he cave because his father and him had discovered it many years ago and that he had stumbled to the ground because of a rock. His ankle was hurting very bad. But the ranger did not appear to believe what he was saying. He told the teenagers to leave and never to go back to the cave again as it was off limits. As they left, he stood up and went for a nurse’s kit, and tried to fix Alex’s ankle but it was already swollen and hurting more. As he tried to do anything, he talked, implying that he did believe Alex had fallen because of a rock but also because he had been too busy nosing around the cave.

 Alex stood up, inflicting a lot of pain onto himself. He told the park ranger the park had gone to hell as no one even respected nature, every single fragment been taken for tents and a lake full of fast food. The place had been a natural beauty and now it was just a shame, as it was his conclusion of blaming it all on a guy wit ha swollen ankle and not on the two kids that had taken the cave as a brothel. Alex forced his foot out of the office and, fortunately, he had his car keys with him. He just drove off, leaving his tent and other things behind. They were just a memory he wanted to erase and never go back to again.

The hunter

   The arrow passed just a few centimeters away from the rabbit’s head. It wasn’t the day to die for him. But a wild turkey and a pheasant had not been so lucky. They hanged on one side of Karl’s waist, dangling around as he marched through the woods looking for more game. But he didn’t find anything else to bring back to his shack so he stopped wandering around and went straight back to his place. It was a small cottage in the woods, just a few steps away from the lake. He had built it there so no floods could reach it but close enough to the water to get his everyday ration to cook and bathe.

 As he entered the house, he left the dead animals in a rough wood table. He took off his clothes fast and, with the sun setting in the distance; he came out naked of his house and walked to the lake. He didn’t even hesitate to jump into the cold water. He plunged deep and then resurfaced, scrubbing his skin with his hands. There was no soap and soap would contaminate the lake anyway so he just scrubbed hard, sometimes with a scourer but he only used that some times a week. He submerged many times, looking at the distance, to the sun, which was now glowing orange. As he cleaned his beard and every hair he had on his body, he thought about that decision he had taken a long time ago, the decision that had changed his life by putting him there instead of in the city, in a job with a family and so on.

 He didn’t regret he hadn’t decided to stay with his family or just make a family of his own. It haunted him but he was sure he didn’t wanted to be one of those family men. He didn’t have what it takes to be one and he didn’t wanted to be one. He had always wanted to be free, as free as any human could be and this was the way he had found to be true to his desires. His family had not thoroughly understood but now that didn’t really matter. It had been three years now since he had decided to live in the forest and he knew it had been one of the best decisions he had taken in his life. Here, among animals and plants and fresh water, there was nothing that bothered him or made him feel like there was something wrong. Everything here felt fair and well done, because it was.

 He had always hated the competition, the killing that people submitted themselves to in the “real” world. People used to use those words together to describe to him were their lives happened, as if hid daily life wasn’t real, just a figment of his imagination. Hunting was more real than any bank job he could think off. Swimming naked in a beautiful lake was more real than worrying every day if someone was going to hurt you or your loved ones in any given moment. His world was very real and he had chosen it because he couldn’t take what the world was anymore. It had been a done deal the day he was attacked on the street, mugged and stabbed. He had become disenchanted with the world so he decided to leave it for good and there was not a single day in which he regretted that.

 In any case, it wasn’t as if he never talked or chatted with another human anymore. Many people came to the forest, in spring or summer, and the park rangers had designated him as an official guide. He got paid a small salary but that wasn’t the important thing, it was the fact that he got to share his experiences and knowledge with visitors which was the best part of the job. He would take them hiking or trekking for hours, compensating them with beautiful vistas, information about every plant and animal living in the park and would usually end up with a small “party” by the shore of the lake. Those who wanted could swim but they would all celebrate with a local meal.

 He came out of the water and waited to dry off for a half hour by the shore. As the water dripped away, he threw small stones to the water, trying to make them skip. But he had never managed to do I correctly. Time passed so he walked up his cabin, showered by the orange light of sunset. Inside the house he cleaned up his feet and put on some warm clothes to feel some heat after his swim in the cold water. He decided to eat first and then skin his animals to be put away with salt to be preserved. He had no electric device, except a portable stove, so it was best to consume everything before it went bad. He would eat the pheasant in the morning and the turkey could last a little longer if he treated it well. He ate some vegetables he had cooked earlier and it was then when he heard the sound. He wasn’t sure he had heard it but there it was again.

 The hunter walked up to the window and stayed there. It was already dark outside and he had turned on a gas lamp he had but he decided to turn it off and wait for the sound to come back again. There it was… It was like a moan or a scream that was silenced. He was worried as there was no one else for the next ten kilometers. Maybe he was imagining things, maybe it was an animal or maybe some people had just decided to come into the park and get busy. It wouldn’t be the first time. He decided to stop worrying and walked away from the window but then there was a scream, a piercing sound that broke the silence of the woods in two.

 The scream came from deep in the woods, in the opposite direction of the lake. He didn’t know very well, but he though the scream was from a male. He decided to take his bow and arrow, a rope and his best boots. That person could be trapped between rocks, in the formations that existed in the park in that direction. Or maybe some animal had attacked him and he needed assistance before bleeding to death. There were a few wolfs and they could be very violent, as well as black bears who roamed around the forest for food. Once he was ready, the hunter came out of the cabin and started marching rather fast in the direction he had heard the scream.

 He walked and walked but he didn’t seem to get anywhere. He didn’t usually come out so late at night and his senses were not as accurate in the dark than in the light. But he was sure where he was going and pressed on, worried for the person that had yelled earlier. After some twenty minutes, he finally arrived to a rocky formation and he noticed, with his solar flashlight, that the rocks were tainted with what appeared to be blood. He turned off his light and decided to be still and hear. There were no screams, only crickets and other animals making sounds. But then, he heard panting and someone else, breathing heavily. He ran towards the sound and, without thinking, jumped right onto one of the persons there.

 Apparently he had done correctly, because the voice that had screamed earlier was begin for him to help him. Somehow, his voice felt strange, as if it had changed in less than an hour. But the hunter was a strong man and he was able to submit the man he was fighting with ease. Once he turned on the flashlight again, he gave it to the victim, who happened to be a young man, covered in blood. He was trembling but was able to hold steady long enough for the hunter to use the rope to tie the hands of the other guy, an older man who had his nose broken and seemed to be in a fit of rage. He wasn’t fighting anymore but his eyes were filled with hatred, filled with blood and pure rage. The hunter made him stand up and he told the young man to follow him, so they could call the rangers who would then call the police of whoever had to be in charge of this.

 It wasn’t long before they stepped into the hunter’s house. The tie man was sat in the hunter’s bed and the boy sat in one of the big chair by the only table. The hunter looked for the walkie-talkie he rarely used during this time of year and started talking into it, to no response. As he waited, he asked the young guy to tell him what had happened but the guy refused at the other one seemed to be preparing for another assault. When one of the rangers finally answered, he couldn’t hear a word because the kid had jumped from his chair, with a knife the hunter had not seen, and stabbed the man in the chest. The man screamed and the hunter realized it was him who had screamed earlier.

 He attempted to grab the young guy from behind but now he flung his knife towards him, cutting the surface of his chest. He took advantage of this to turn around and finish off the man in the bed, who bled out just there, looking at the kid with horror. The hunter avoided the kid’s next attack and just punched him hard in the head. The kid was groggy for a minute, time the hunter used to grab his bow and arrow. He told the kid the rangers would come soon, as they never received communications from here and they would be worried to know if there was something wrong. He suggested him to surrender and let him tie his hands.

 But the kid launched himself at him and he just let go of the arrow that pierced his chest deep. He fell to the ground, where the hunter grabbed him and tried to understand what he was saying. Because as he spitted blood, he tried to say something but it wasn’t clear. Then the hunter lowered his head and he understood a couple of words: “got revenge”. Then he died and the hunter never knew what those words meant.