Love And Fate

The blade strangled in the neck, the carcass in the hand tensed and jerked violently, emitting a tremor disproportionate to its tiny size, as if to burst out all the drops of life contained in it. As the warm, fishy liquid gradually dripped down into the mouth, the trembling between the fingers also gradually declined and finally dissipated. Asa squeezed the mountain rat as hard as he could, not caring that the stomach contents were also squeezed out together. Until the last drop of bodily fluids slowly dripped down, Asa only dropped the mountain mouse has been pinched twisted deformed, stick out his tongue to lick the blood around the mouth into the mouth. I don't want to die. The taste of blood steamed up from his stomach. The throat made itself a low growl, dull and ambiguous long and deep, not like from an organ, but from somewhere deep in the soul. He remembered this sound when he was three years old, hiding in a tree, watching several hunters in the village round up a wounded wolf. He was shaken by the low growl of the wolf, not by fear, but by the feeling that a chord in the deepest part of his soul resonated with it. After that he was obsessed with understanding the language of animals for some time. He now understands that the sound was originally meaningless, just the hiss of life before the threat of death, is a strong desire to live and almost crazy beast in the heart of the overflow of the release. Three days of blood and blood and extreme stress, and the critical mass of physical strength. The threat of death trailing behind him and his own strong desire to live, the torment of both turned him almost into a complete beast. But fortunately, sanity still dominates all actions. Asa was well aware of the gap between himself and his pursuers in terms of ability. He remembered very well how the heads of the two infantrymen of the third detachment had been smashed like watermelons in a flash. The only thing he could rely on now was the advantage of insight into his opponent's intentions. The hunter did not chase him with all his might. This is not a chase, the pursuer does not want to catch up with him as soon as possible, and then risk injury and a desperate beast to tear each other apart. This is hunting, keep chasing the prey, let the prey in fear and desperate to escape gradually weakened, wait until there is a twelve percent sure then come over, like crushing a mouse to kill him, cut off his head to. Whether it is the physical factors, or the skills to survive in this swampy dense forest, he is impossible to get rid of the chase. This point chase and flee both know very well. During these three days, Asa pretended that the hunter wanted to see a desperate escape. His physical strength also dropped as quickly as if he were running away. If you can't make a fire, you don't have enough food. Eating the flesh of any animal raw in the lizard swamp is looking for death. The parasites in the human body are deadly enough. Instead, you can only find some non-toxic insects to eat raw. Although the blood of animals is safe and can be supplemented slightly, it is not enough to cope with the sweat and physical strength lost by a lot of exercise. The scarcity of salt and food has almost reached the limit of bearing, and the camouflage that must be put up during these three days must be put to an end with an action that cannot fail in the slightest. With very good luck, three non-poisonous worms were quickly found from the surrounding grass and shrubs. The size of a fingertip, they flopped energetically from hand to hand. Pinch the head with your fingers and slowly strangle it, and the green feces is squeezed out. The force should not be too heavy to squeeze the body of the worm, so that the nutritious juice splashed, but also to try to expel the feces may be poisonous, this is an extremely delicate craft, after a few days of use, Asa has become very skilled. The tender worm flesh quickly became a thick paste between the teeth, the slippery, bitter taste sticking to the taste buds like the air of this swamp sticking to the skin. Asa carefully grinded with his teeth, searching carefully with his tongue for any larger pieces of meat that he missed in the paste, making sure that the entire insect body could be reduced to the smallest possible unit for easy digestion. Every drop of nutrition was precious, a motivation for the next, a hope to live. Using his knife, he dug a hole about a foot into the ground and buried the body of the mountain rat. For every animal he killed in the past three days, he would bury the carcass without stinting his precious strength. Carrying his knife on his back, he checked himself carefully, smoothed out every bulge of clothing as much as possible, stepped cautiously onto the mound of earth where the mountain rat had just been buried like a careful sentry stepping onto a narrow guard platform, and then slowly crouched down and plopped down, like a giant deformed worm, and moved slowly toward a puddle of sewage next to him. He focused all his attention on this ugly movement, carefully controlling every muscle in his body, so that the body as stretchy as possible on the ground, not leaving any conspicuous traces on the soft mud. Any one movement out of control and uncoordinated, will make three days of effort completely wasted. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he slowly slid down into the chest-flush sewage, not letting it splash in the slightest. The weight of the knife was just enough to keep him from floating, paddling the silt at the bottom of the water to move in the direction of memory. The pool of sewage led to a makeshift creek formed by the rainy season, and he had purposely walked here and had purposely chosen this terrain to bury the body, all in good order. There was a slight pain in a few places on the body, leeches negative on the body. Asa did not bother, sucked enough blood they will loosen their mouth, barely to pull the opposite will let the suction cups left in the skin to cause infection, now the most important thing is to dive as far as possible before the next change of air. The mind reexamined every detail of what just happened. There was nothing broken, and the great joy of being born into heaven was born. The only problem now is the corpse of the mountain rat, which must decay to a sufficient degree before the hunters arrive, enough to emit a certain odor. I just need a rotten luck now. Asa, who was paddling his limbs like a scavenging lizard on the sludge made of decaying material, prayed fiercely. In the afternoon, the sun, a rare sight in the lizard swamp, showed its face for a while. The hunter watched in silence as a large group of scavenging lizards gleefully scrambled for a mountain rat carcass. He hated the smell of mucus from these ugly scavengers, it was too much for his keen sense of smell. One of the larger lizards triumphantly grabbed the carcass and turned to flee, while the others immediately swarmed after it and disappeared into the woods, leaving only a grubbed-out mound and a trail all over the ground. For a human, this prey was quite good, with good speed, agility, and strength. The pursuer was interested and fairly sure of killing him in a head-to-head fight. But only a fair amount of certainty is not enough. This is not a battlefield, but a hunt, to use a fair amount of certainty gradually evolved into enough certainty. Since yesterday, the footprint has begun to gradually weak, weakness. Now, the hunter feels he has enough certainty. But this is also a strange prey. Although indeed being chased, the tracks do not show the mess and panic that is expected of hunted prey. The feeble pace reveals a strange determination, that is not a single-minded escape, but there is something else hidden in it. The three days of covering up the tracks were good, but he kept making a stupid mistake - burying the carcasses of animals that had finished drinking blood. This is completely counterproductive, and the lizards dig up the carcass and eat it through the smell of decay. Hunters can almost catch their prey by sniffing the stench of large groups of lizards and chasing them down. The incomprehensible mindset, the stupid mistake, and the seemingly inexorable connection between the two, made the chasers feel a little strange. But it was only limited to strange, after catching up, killing, and cutting off the head, there was nothing to be surprised about. No animal can get rid of their own tracking in this swampy forest. This chaser has absolute confidence. Absolutely. But the pursuer was immediately surprised to find that all the tracks only went so far, and did not extend in any direction. Only the strong stench characteristic of swamp lizards was left in the air. The hunter leaned down and carefully examined any trace of the ground. Although the lizards crawl and scramble for food to make a mess of the surrounding ground, but for the hunter's superb observation and experience, the traces of this prey is still visible, and it takes a while to survey all the surrounding traces clearly. Some vain but not panic stride, and not backwards on their own footprints back to the road traces, just a few turns in the surrounding bushes, about looking for food. The chaser was even able to tell that the first food he found was from underneath two ram's horn ferns, probably a worm. The first half of the two footprints there were slightly deeper, showing a forward shift of weight in the bending motion. But other than that, nothing was found. Footprints only to the original buried bodies in front of the mound and then stopped. This is completely beyond the scope of experience accumulated by the tribe of hunters for many years of heritage. Escape, concealment, gradually declining physical ability ...... The hunter can only rely on his own mind to relate these, hoping to derive from them something other than experience. But a mind that lacks the ability to think logically can hardly accomplish this task. When finding himself, as this fugitive expected, step by step trapped in a strange trap, an uncontrollable fury madly occupied all his thoughts. A lizard crawled back, shaking its head and sniffing around the mound, expecting to find some benefit. But it immediately became the object of the rage next to it. The large body flew high in a furious blow and then fell into the sewage puddle, stirring up a torrent of sewage and mud. With the mud and water landing on the shore there are several leeches, awkwardly wriggling after a full meal rounded body trying to return to the water. The hunter noticed, picked up a careful look, snapped and crushed, tasted the liquid flowing from it. Then a grim expression appeared on his face that no other race could understand. Pressed against the ground, the most sensitive sense of smell on the entire continent finally discerned a hint of the smell he hoped to find from the foul stimulation of the mucus emanating from the lizard and the putrid smell of the earth. The smell extended toward the sewage puddle. To pull out the heart while it was alive, to tear the hot, still pulsing thing in his teeth, to swallow it through his throat into his body along with the freshest blood contained within, to turn the cunning contained within into his own strength. There must be no damage to the skull. The brain marrow is slowly dug out from the eye sockets and eaten, the flesh is stripped away and the skull is ground by the best craftsmen. This perfect trophy can be placed on the ancestral tombs. As an offering, it is a testament to the tribe's proud hunting skills taken a step further. You are my good prey. A long-lost exhilaration filled the running hunter's body, a feeling that had only ever stirred in his body when he was newly mature and chasing the most beautiful female of the tribe.