The Hunt

John wandered about for a while, skirting the edges of a tall forest.

Most trees reached about two hundred feet tall, but some were only a mere twenty. The smaller ones were no more than iotas of Old Earth. There were not many.

When the sun was high over head, about o' twelve hundred hours, John knew he would find no food in the grassy plains. All the real prey was in the forest.

John felt something like fear at the thought of going inside. He'd only been in once before, and barely escaped the claws of death.

The forest was dense, foreboding. Dark and mysterious, but with a certain charm. The air, for one, was much cleaner. Almost completely uncontaminated. Healthy.

John took a very deep breath, and plunged into the forest.

The trees were so tall and immense that, as a result, there was hardly any light once the entrence was very far behind you. For all John could have known, night had fallen early.

There was plenty of dark green shrubbery, but they were four times the size of what you might be accustomed to. Imagine: Oak leaves the size of an old steel door of a ware house; twigs the size of both of your arms put together.

This is no adventurous game. This world is real, and as much as you may not want to accept it, it's dangerous, and should be taken seriously.

Hours passed, and still, John had no results. Several times, he came upon fist-sized slugs. When this occured, he pinched them tight and bit into them. It wasn't ideal, but it kept him alive.

Many of the plants were luminescent, or glowed in the dark, if you prefer to put it that way. It wasn't natural for most of Old Earth, but it has been this way for centuries, and it is all the new world knows.

Dry leaves crunching under an animal's foot, hidden in the surrounding brush, alerted John. He looked around desperately. A frustrated hiss emited from the creature's jowl, and on a spare-of-the-moment decision, leapt to attack John.

He caught the creature, which was about as big as he was, and wrestled with it for a moment, before flinging it onto its back and pinning it down.

From what John could tell, the thing was black, and cat like. It had big, red beady eyes, and long, pointed ears with tufts of fur on the edges. The tops of its paws looked white, but he couldn't be sure.

Knowing he couldn't hold the thing down much longer, John pulled out a tiny dagger he carried with him at all times. In the faint glow of some incandescent flowers, the blade glinted slightly. He struck.

The cat like creature lay limp and dead. John, despite how sorry he was for killing the poor thing, was proud of himself, and knew he would be eating well for the next few days.

The End

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