Red Woods

“Odd little creatures they are” thought Andy as he sat on the stone bench, sun warming his skin and brisk wind running through his hair. “Feathers and feet. All there seems to be. Feathers and feet”. Andy continued to throw crumbs down towards the winged strangers as he studied them. He wondered what they felt like but was afraid to touch them. He did seem to be popular among them, however. When Andy first got to the pond there was only one webbed-footer. In the twenty minutes since Andy sat down the word must have gotten out. Five inquisitive feathered fowls now gathered at his feet. “I’m almost out of food” Andy said to his friends. He felt bad for the late arrivers, as they would not have as much in their belly as the others. “You’ll have to find something else to eat but I’m sure there is plenty to eat out here in the woods” Andy said delightedly. Andy enjoyed talking to his new friends. He didn’t have many people to talk to since his wife died five years ago. He missed her dearly. Andy threw the last crumb down to the ground and it was gobbled up instantly. “Don’t worry” Andy reassured his friends. “I’ll be back tomorrow and this time I’ll bring a whole loaf!” As Andy was getting up off of the bench a dog came racing out of a brush nearby. As soon as the dog appeared the creatures took flight, flying all around Andy. As this was happening Andy heard a loud crack and suddenly felt pain in his side. “Did I get one dad?” a young kid yelled excitingly in the distance. “Do you think I got one?!” Andy looked down at his side and realized he had been shot. The dog began barking loudly. Blood was starting to pour out of Andy’s side and he clasped the location trying to delay the bleeding. He hobbled for a couple steps trying to gain balance but was unable to and fell into the water. “I bet I got a big one dad! It just fell into the pond!” a young voice called out getting steadily closer. Andy tried desperately to reach the edge of the pond but was bleeding out too quickly. The warmth that Andy enjoyed earlier in the afternoon was turning cold and the sunlight bleeding to black. After a couple more seconds, life left Andy. His body laid faced-down, motionless, at the edge of the pond. “I’m proud of you son. You’ll be a great hunter one day” said the young boy’s father as they turned the corner to the pond.