This is my first short story here, hope to post more later:
The Pursuit
Charging forward, I could hear the steps of my pursuer close behind. Almost tripping, I leaped across the Murray river, drought had almost dried this once mighty river up, and another summer like the one we're in now will kill it completely. Across the far side now, I dove into thick Australian bushland. I could hear my pursuers footsteps reaching the river now, one splash and he had crossed it, Australian summers are harsh, and this one was the worst ever experienced. Glancing back, I caught a glimpse of an arm before I tripped and landed into a thick bush of blackberries. Ripping myself out of the bush, shredding my skin in the process, I resumed fleeing from my attacker. He had gained a lot of ground now, so I had to pick up the pace.
Tiring, I darted between trees, and surged to the left, trying to gain ground. I failed miserably though, and the pursuer gained ground. A lot, of ground. I could now hear his breath, and for the first time I relised, there was not one hunter, but four. Four, blood thirsty pursuers intent on catching me and killing me, as far as I know. Getting close to exhaustion now, I knew that the only way to lose them was a sprint, I didn't have enough energy left to continue this. And so I sprinted. I sprinted and I sprinted, and I lost them! Overjoyed I collapsed in the nearby lake, which was less then a puddle now. Drinking deep, soaking myself in the beautiful, cool water, I fell asleep.
I woke, and by now it was evening, night had almost fallen. Wondering why I had awoken, I glanced over my shoulder and saw what I feared the most, an arm, a leg, a face, a HUNTER! Searching the forest edge around the lake, I saw the rest of them. A total of four hunters. This was it. Nothing could save me now. Determined to go down fighting, I got up, stretched my legs, arms, my tail, and prepared myself mentally for what was to come. Remembering what these men had done when I was a little joey. Remembering how they had killed my mother, when I was barely able to leave her pouch, how they had eaten her, and sent me away. Letting the thought of them killing my mother fill me with rage, I darted up, and faster then light I had reached the nearest hunter. Using my strong legs and sharp toe nails, I ripped his chest open and cracked his skull. The hunters, shocked, hurled a boomerang at me, but thanks to the thick cover the dead hunter was hiding in, I was safe and it collided with a tree. Charging at the next nearest hunter - the one who threw the boomerang - I was at him in a flash. Jumping and kicking I knocked him over with a nasty gash, one that would be the end of him. But the hunters had come to their senses, and my time was up. I felt the cold, hard, sharp metal pierce my skin. The sharp, deadly pain of the spear entering me. The burning of my own blood against my fur. And finally, nothing. Knowing that I had no chance of life, but determined not to die, I tried to get up - but was stopped by another spear. That was it this time, I couldn't make it now. Finally, after a long chase, I collapsed, dead at my hunters feet. Like many former kangaroos, and many more to come, the Barangati tribe had killed and were to kill, they got me. Nothing left for me, I was dead.
The Pursuit
Charging forward, I could hear the steps of my pursuer close behind. Almost tripping, I leaped across the Murray river, drought had almost dried this once mighty river up, and another summer like the one we're in now will kill it completely. Across the far side now, I dove into thick Australian bushland. I could hear my pursuers footsteps reaching the river now, one splash and he had crossed it, Australian summers are harsh, and this one was the worst ever experienced. Glancing back, I caught a glimpse of an arm before I tripped and landed into a thick bush of blackberries. Ripping myself out of the bush, shredding my skin in the process, I resumed fleeing from my attacker. He had gained a lot of ground now, so I had to pick up the pace.
Tiring, I darted between trees, and surged to the left, trying to gain ground. I failed miserably though, and the pursuer gained ground. A lot, of ground. I could now hear his breath, and for the first time I relised, there was not one hunter, but four. Four, blood thirsty pursuers intent on catching me and killing me, as far as I know. Getting close to exhaustion now, I knew that the only way to lose them was a sprint, I didn't have enough energy left to continue this. And so I sprinted. I sprinted and I sprinted, and I lost them! Overjoyed I collapsed in the nearby lake, which was less then a puddle now. Drinking deep, soaking myself in the beautiful, cool water, I fell asleep.
I woke, and by now it was evening, night had almost fallen. Wondering why I had awoken, I glanced over my shoulder and saw what I feared the most, an arm, a leg, a face, a HUNTER! Searching the forest edge around the lake, I saw the rest of them. A total of four hunters. This was it. Nothing could save me now. Determined to go down fighting, I got up, stretched my legs, arms, my tail, and prepared myself mentally for what was to come. Remembering what these men had done when I was a little joey. Remembering how they had killed my mother, when I was barely able to leave her pouch, how they had eaten her, and sent me away. Letting the thought of them killing my mother fill me with rage, I darted up, and faster then light I had reached the nearest hunter. Using my strong legs and sharp toe nails, I ripped his chest open and cracked his skull. The hunters, shocked, hurled a boomerang at me, but thanks to the thick cover the dead hunter was hiding in, I was safe and it collided with a tree. Charging at the next nearest hunter - the one who threw the boomerang - I was at him in a flash. Jumping and kicking I knocked him over with a nasty gash, one that would be the end of him. But the hunters had come to their senses, and my time was up. I felt the cold, hard, sharp metal pierce my skin. The sharp, deadly pain of the spear entering me. The burning of my own blood against my fur. And finally, nothing. Knowing that I had no chance of life, but determined not to die, I tried to get up - but was stopped by another spear. That was it this time, I couldn't make it now. Finally, after a long chase, I collapsed, dead at my hunters feet. Like many former kangaroos, and many more to come, the Barangati tribe had killed and were to kill, they got me. Nothing left for me, I was dead.
