The Hunter

The man stood, motionless, in the shallows of the river.  In the pre-dawn light, all was silent save the murmuring of the water over the rocky bed.  Naked, his tanned body tall and lean, his long black hair held in a braid and tied with a leather strap.  His keen black eyes searched the clear, cold water.  It was time.

Silently, he raised his spear.  He’d spent days carving it until it was exactly the way he wanted.  The shaft was smooth to his touch, the business end sharp and deadly. 

He stood there, spear raised.  As dawn broke, sending the sun’s rays spreading across the valley, he spotted the silvery flash of the prey he’d been waiting for.  His arm slashed down, sending the spear through the head of the fish.  The fish flapped - once, twice and then lay still on the spearhead, its eyes glinting dully.  Triumphant, the man let out a yell and held his prize aloft.  The birds broke into their dawn chorus as if to help celebrate his success.

Grinning, he strode up the path towards his camp, a path well-trodden by the generations of hunters who had come before him.  The smell of smoke from last night’s fire hung over the campsite and made his stomach growl in anticipation of his fish breakfast.  Ahead he could see the tents of his family.  It looked like one of his sons was stirring – the tent flap rustled and then opened.

“Geez, Dad, put some clothes on!”, his son groaned as he zipped up his jacket. “For crying out loud, you’re taking this back-to-nature camping trip a bit too far!”

Daily Flash fiction entry 24/7/10
Keywords: braid, river, dawn
Word count: 274