The Hunt

Liga Bur could remember when the hunting was good. But the grass on these plains was dead and brown, and the only vegetation that clung to the dry, dusty soil was a type of thick gorse that provided little nourishment to the few beasts that still roamed. Concealed in a hollow next to a patch of the gorse, Liga gramaced to himself. Hiding like a snake and waiting for some poor wretch of an animal, starved and parched like himself, was no way to hunt.

It had been different when he was a youngling. The tribe had commanded lands full of green grass and thick woodlands, with all the meat a young warrior could possibly want. Liga licked his cracked lips at the memory of the suckling boars, wild cattle, and even succulent rabbits he had gorged himself on.  

Since that fateful battle the Darkstar had retreated further still from their territory until all the Red Eyes had left them was a parched and barren wasteland. But there was no hope of mounting a conter attack. He still had nightmares about the way the enemy dead had risen in front of him. If only water wasn't so precious these days, he would spit on the ground and curse the Red Eyes name to Gruumsh.

Mir Hundur stirred beside him, nose twitching having caught a scent on the air. Moments later a lone antelope came into view, staggering towards the dried up oasis in which Liga Bur was hiding.

In one swift movement Liga Bur leaped up and onto the dogs saddle. With one mind, Mir Hunder took this as his queue to rise and, snarling with the joy of the hunt, took off in anticipation of the chase.

The antelope was fast but weak and Mir Hundur soon drew level with the beast. As he did so, Liga Bur drew back the string on his bow and let fly an arrow straight into his prey's chest. The animal stumbled, and as Mir Hunder ran in front of its path Liga Bur shot again almost splitting his first shot in two. As the antelope collapsed to the ground, Mir Hundur slowed and brought Liga Bur back around to their kill.

The antelope was more skin and bone than muscle but Liga Bur dutifully butchered the animal with his kukri, tossing the sweet breads to Mir Hunder who gladly gobbled them down. 

Heaving the carcass onto a sled tied behind Mir Hundur, Liga Bur remounted and they headed back to camp. The tribe would not eat well tonight, but at least they would eat.