Thursday, January 12, 2006
Page 5
“I’m not hungry.”
A darker chill seemed to emanate from the figure of the man as his strides moved with a gentle breeze on the dune as he stepped beyond the rubble of the ruins. His feet moved with such lightness that the hem of his robe swept away his footprints from the space behind him. He replied, “You will be.”
“Then I will hunt and eat my prey.”
“You are old enough to hunt?”
“I have 12 winters, I have hunted for my own food for the past 2.”
“Do the other young ones of your tribe do that?”
“Yes, but not quite so young, maybe a season older.”
“Turn around and head home, Learner, there is nothing this way for you. There is nothing this way for anyone.”
“I go where the wind blows, not where I am told to.”
The old man moved with a quick and relaxed snap, a bamboo staff flowed from under his robe and toward the boy. Learner tried to duck, spinning away from the strike, yet the weapon changed direction and caught him under the ribs, sending a burning pain through him. The man sent another blow for Learner’s head with a stern but mild strength. Learner swung to the side a rock flying from the rubble into his hand as he kicked it up with his foot, both hands wrapping around it and bracing the instant the blow struck, knocking it from his hand and sending him two feet backwards. With all his skill he remained standing to the surprise of the man.
“You didn’t try to dodge a second time?”
Learner wasn’t sure if it was deeper curiosity or irritation in the man’s voice when he asked his question. It wasn’t either one, but the timbre of his words had in fact changed ever so slightly.
“You’d change your aim again.”
The rod spun with a blur and was gone. The man continued walking, a compliment rose from him like smoke, “Very good. Learner is a good name for you.”
Learner got up and began following him again.
“I could kill you.”
“Then the wind will blow me to my death.”
“A fool would speak so. The wind doesn’t blow idly. Your death would be a useless waste.”
“Then you will not kill me.”
“You sound older every minute. Go to your tribe.”
Learner did not answer, and the old man stopped his movement. He stood that way for another day. Learner stood by in readiness. He tried once to sit, and was forced to his full readiness by another blow narrowly avoided with another rock. The old man said not a word as the night chilled around them. His silence persevered through the rising of the sun, and as the shadows moved throughout the day he stood in motionless vigil. There was no sleep, and no food for either.
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A darker chill seemed to emanate from the figure of the man as his strides moved with a gentle breeze on the dune as he stepped beyond the rubble of the ruins. His feet moved with such lightness that the hem of his robe swept away his footprints from the space behind him. He replied, “You will be.”
“Then I will hunt and eat my prey.”
“You are old enough to hunt?”
“I have 12 winters, I have hunted for my own food for the past 2.”
“Do the other young ones of your tribe do that?”
“Yes, but not quite so young, maybe a season older.”
“Turn around and head home, Learner, there is nothing this way for you. There is nothing this way for anyone.”
“I go where the wind blows, not where I am told to.”
The old man moved with a quick and relaxed snap, a bamboo staff flowed from under his robe and toward the boy. Learner tried to duck, spinning away from the strike, yet the weapon changed direction and caught him under the ribs, sending a burning pain through him. The man sent another blow for Learner’s head with a stern but mild strength. Learner swung to the side a rock flying from the rubble into his hand as he kicked it up with his foot, both hands wrapping around it and bracing the instant the blow struck, knocking it from his hand and sending him two feet backwards. With all his skill he remained standing to the surprise of the man.
“You didn’t try to dodge a second time?”
Learner wasn’t sure if it was deeper curiosity or irritation in the man’s voice when he asked his question. It wasn’t either one, but the timbre of his words had in fact changed ever so slightly.
“You’d change your aim again.”
The rod spun with a blur and was gone. The man continued walking, a compliment rose from him like smoke, “Very good. Learner is a good name for you.”
Learner got up and began following him again.
“I could kill you.”
“Then the wind will blow me to my death.”
“A fool would speak so. The wind doesn’t blow idly. Your death would be a useless waste.”
“Then you will not kill me.”
“You sound older every minute. Go to your tribe.”
Learner did not answer, and the old man stopped his movement. He stood that way for another day. Learner stood by in readiness. He tried once to sit, and was forced to his full readiness by another blow narrowly avoided with another rock. The old man said not a word as the night chilled around them. His silence persevered through the rising of the sun, and as the shadows moved throughout the day he stood in motionless vigil. There was no sleep, and no food for either.
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# posted by BentSea @ 12:02 PM 
