05. A Tale about Vixie

April 24, 2018




The light mercifully withdraws, as to give me break form the chaos about to break out. Hungry stomachs, restless legs, pulling ears. It is time for them to emerge from the erth, 14 weeks has already passed. But food needs to be fetched for a family of 5, once more. The protection of The Shed is no longer needed as I can hunt when the men has gone home. Silenced. Closed their doors. 

First challenge is on. 

                 The crossing of the hunting zone.

She had been been late at dawn, prowdley running home with a pigeon for supper. And there, out of the blue, she was attached. The red creature with eyes lit up as fire. Round legs allow it to run faster than any other animal known. And there, at the hunting zone, she was killed. The pigeon never reached her cubs. It was a hard summer. Therephore,  I am even quicker crossing the black hard ground of the hunting zone tonight. 

We call them treasureboxes. It’s is hard to smell, but with a trained eye, you learn to spot them. Thet are tall, made of hard, often dark material.  If you are strong and long, like me, you might reach into the opening on top. Or even tilt one over if its unsteady enough. And in there lays all the goods one can imagiane. Wonder who hunted them? 

With a half eaten piece of meat from the treasure box and a somewhat small pigeon, I cross the Hunting Zone on my way back to the Shed. Not exactly a fiest, but it will do. The night is still young, the men will be quiet for a while more. I pass Vixies erth and it reminds me. I need to teach my own about the treasure box. And the hunting zone. Cause I might end up like Vixie sometime soon. 


Rikke Henriksen Winther


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