The Hunt

                       2019

Barons took leisure in the hunt. Dogs at the front gnashing for the blood of wild beasts that lay ahead. Leads stretched taut they waited to be released, the hunt drew nearer.

A deer grazing amongst the grasses of the forest, unaware of what dangers lay in wait when the horn would call out screaming for its demise.

Winds gently rustled the leaves amongst the trees, grasses swayed with the wind. As of yet the idyllic scene untouched by man or beast alike. What reason could there be for such situations to change?

Anticipation was awash through the air. All breath baited, the hounds could scarcely wait to be released from bondage so that they could race through the brush. Teeth wet with saliva and hind legs rippling with torsion, the horn bellowed.

The pressure suddenly released throwing the hounds forwards, they bounded low and straight racing forwards with lumps of ground hurled backwards leaving only soil in their wake. This was not their first venture for flesh and the hunger in their eyes parted the land ahead setting their sights on a spot amongst the trees.

Startled, the deer’s head shot up at the sound in the distance curious as to what had uttered such a tremendous bellow. It had failed yet to hear what would be its end hurtling towards it, the rush of grass akin to that of a strong gust of wind throwing the brush around.

Ahead the horns came into sight followed shortly by a tawny head and meaty body, prime pickings for the knives adorning the mouths of the hounds. They would make short work of their prey they were sure.

Movement across the edge of the forest alerted the deer, only a few chains away there was little time for idling. Muscular legs lurched and turned the large body around and away from this oncoming threat, four bounds and it careered through the air with every step knowing that it had only the choice to flee lest it succumb to whatever fate seemed eager to catch it. Trees marred the way ahead, sharp twists of the body the only way to dodge the immovable obstacles hampering its survival.

They saw it turn and begin its escape, now the hounds craved the kill that much more for there was little enjoyment in easy killing. Blood coursing through the veins pushing every last pound of power out of the hounds, these jaws needed filling and there was little that could stop them now. Spittle trailed perpendicular to the ground above the shredded grass, the only sign that killers had entered that space so briefly in their desire to end a life. Trees posed little problem for nimble limbs, torsos wrenching themselves to sail cleanly past allowing their snouts to feel flecks of dirt being kicked up barely ahead.

The sensation was not immediate, but the weight dragging it backwards was. A hind leg pierced, tendons shredded, momentum the only driving force as the deer buckled from losing the use of a limb. Three more mouths sunk into the meat surrounding its legs and body, a fourth clamped down on its throat. What was the beginning of a pained cry came out a gargled blood filled sound, drowned out by the snarls that surrounded its dying self.

A few pathetic kicks struck out to nothing but emptiness as the white coats of the hounds were bathed in red. Jaws motionless bar a tightening as canines cut away at the sinew clenched in their jaws, sinking their teeth gently deeper.

The deer was motionless, what once grazed the grasses ever so gently now a meal for those who trotted over on their horses.
Flavourful meat lay at the foot of the baron who took out a knife and began to carve up the body with ease and grace that only a hand familiar with such activities could perform. Flesh flayed from bone and innards neatly laid to one side, the skin of the deer became a dining table for the hounds. Offal atop the still bloody skin they feasted on their quarry, relishing every last well deserved morsel.