Going for a hunt

The wagon rolled for a day without much happening.

"Stop at the next place where people are selling," Connor Said to the coachman.

After some time, they stopped. Connor jumped off and returned after some time, he came with some bags, potatoes and carrots. He tossed them inside and the bag slid to a halt.

"The next town is the First town. We will camp in between," he said.

Osmond looked outside and saw the greenery increase as they travelled. He saw grass swaying to the wind and fruits from trees fallen to the ground. He looked outside to pass the time. He didn't want to talk to Connor. Sunlight kissed his skin and he remembered the cold wind of Everville. Connor called out to the coachman. The wagon came to a halt and they set up camp outside.

"Come, boy. We are going," Connor said.

"Going were!" Osmond exclaimed.

"To hunt. I need some meat in my bowl," he swung the bow to his shoulder.

Osmond's eyes widened. He had never hunted before and doubted if Connor was going to help.

They ventured into the forest. Osmond felt dried leaves rustling below his feet. He heard birds chirping above the branches. He felt ants crawling up his legs.

They were crouched and they moved slowly. Osmond felt his legs ache and hated it. And then they stopped.

"Look, boy," Connor said. He looked around, confused and stared at Connor.

"There are tracks boy. What are your eyes for?" Connor said as if answering Osmond's confused face.

"We are lucky to find one this early," Connor sounded excited.

They followed the track for quite some time. Suddenly Connor signed to stop.

" Quick, to the bushes," he said.

Osmond followed. His legs were aching and he sat on the floor and rubbed his feet.

"Look," Connor said.

Osmond was tired but he still did it. He saw a deer drinking water from the lake. It's pelt was orange with dots sprayed on them. Its black eyes checked for danger. Its sharp ears swayed and its bushy tail moving.

It didn't know it was being preyed on.

Connor readied the bow he had taken from the bandits. He nooked an arrow and readied his breath. He focused on the deer and launched the arrow.

The arrow went zipping through the air and struck the deer's chest.

"Tch, missed the heart," Connor said.

The deer tried to run but fell gasping for breath. Connor went with Osmond to the deer. It was still alive. Its eyes asking for mercy. Connor took out the dagger and gave it to Osmond.

"Here, you do it," he said.

Osmond was shocked. He had killed, well he had. Maybe bugs and the like. But not anything that was large as a deer.

Osmond met with the deer's eyes. It was suffering and it needed mercy. It needed death and Osmond was to give it to it. He saw blood oozing from the wound.

BLOOD.

He felt his stomach churn. He saw visions. Visions of the village. Visions of death.

Osmond felt he couldn't do it. He felt his hands shake. And then he remembered. He remembered him crawl and cry for help. He remembered himself being afraid.

"Am I going to run away again?" He thought.

NO.

He felt if he was going to run away now, he will never be able to face the past. He resolved himself. He tightened his grip on the dagger.

"What do I have to do?" He asked.

Connor's eyes widened.

"Pierce the dagger through its heart," He said.

"Where is it?"

"Here," Connor replied and pointed

Osmond placed the tip of the dagger where Connor pointed. He pierced through and felt muscles tearing and then bones breaking.

He had blood on his hands now. Its warmth flowed in. The deer gave out a small cry and left out its last breath.

"What do I do next?" He asked.

Connor was a little stunned. He never thought that the boy will ask for more.

"Next we do an cut from the testicles to the chest. Take care to not the internal organs."

Osmond nodded. He started placing the cut. He felt the skin and muscles tearing, giving off a strange sensation. He didn't care anymore. His body was moving without resistance. Blood flowed out of the wound, gushing.

"Next, take the heart and put it into this bag."

"Pull out the remaining entails and put them into this bag," Connor continued, giving him another bag.

"Reach inside and check for the windpipe, a tube with bones around it and cut it. Remove the lungs."

"Cut off the head and put it in this bag," Connor handed him another bag.

"Remove the skin. We can sell it in the first town. It will be a way of paying me."

The orange spotted deer was no more. In front of Osmond was a piece of meat with blood draining out of it. He sat there tired.

They sat there waiting for the blood to dry out. They didn't speak. After some time, Connor picked up the deer.

"Come boy."

Osmond followed back silently.

Back in the wagon, Connor handed the bounty to Kira.

"I presume you can cook deer," Connor said.

"Ye...yes, master," Kira stuttered.

Osmond and Connor sat in the wagon face to face, waiting for the food.

Was there any meaning behind what he did, Osmond thought. Connor could have easily done it but he made him do it.

"Why did you make me do it?"Osmond asked.

Connor looked him back and then looked outside the boiling pot.

"Have you had any food in your life."

"Yes?" Osmond sounded confused.

"How do you think food comes?."

Osmond didn't say anything.

"It is through death boy. Even plants have life."

"That deer you gutted will become our food and when we die will become food for the worms." Connor continued.

"Taking a stand against a certain way of killing is pure hypocrisy. Because in the end all forms of killing lead to death."

"You haven't seen much and hence you know very little. When the monsters come, they will not try to give you nice death. So learn to be brutal and learn to be unforgiving."

"But killing the monsters and killing innocent life is different," Osmond countered.

"Then why did you stand stunned at the sight of blood."

"Because the deer was innocent."

"No boy. You stood there stunned because you remembered. You stood there remembering your weakness and you did what I told because you decided to face your weakness."

Osmond tried to speak but no words came out. Connor was right. He had decided to face his demons.

And so Osmond didn't say anything.