The Hunt

[02.21.00] » by John Ox

The gun and the lion, one wielding a shotgun and the other a single, large claw ran through the underbrush after the prey. The gun trailed the lion by a few feet, not letting it out of his site, but still able to keep his footing. The gun took aim and steadied itself for a moment as it shot at the trees, aimlessly. The shot ricocheted off a tree and then into the river that the prey was found watering from.

"Damn Irvine, don't get so trigger happy," the sensible lion said, as it plopped on the ground and grumbled at the gun for not hitting the target. The lion and the gun had been sent on a SeeD mission to the southern part of the continent too look for monsters that had attacked Balamb. The lion ran his hand through his raven-hair and looked at the gun. He placed his claw into the sheath at his waist and drank from the mountain fresh spring. With a flick of his wrist, he pulled a pair of binoculars out of his jacket and looked around.

"Squall, you don't understand the hunt. You get one shot, sometimes you hit it, and sometimes you miss. But no matter what, you will always find your prey," said the gun with a smirk. He wrapped his overcoat around himself and began to climb a nearby tree. The tree has a disfigured formation, with a heavy branch reaching down into the ground and almost beckoning someone to climb it, while the other side of its weight-like form reached into the sky and unable to overpower the other side. The gun nimbly picked the proper footrest, reached up with the other foot, and repeated the process. After about ten seconds of climbing, he was around 25 feet in the air. A few more and he was at the top. He looked around a little, to see if he could see Squall, but the leaves clouded his vision. About 200-250 yards to the east of his viewpoint was another peaking mountain, much higher than the one they were on. To the north and west was the continuation of a plateau, covered in an ocean of trees. To the south was a meadow. Using his own pair of binoculars, he looked into the meadow and saw a field of yellow, with a black spot running towards a brown and blue one. With closer inspection, he realized the spot was Squall, hunting his prey. He cursed under his breath and jumped down the tree, almost floating down it.

After running at top speed for a few minutes, the gun reached a heavily sweating lion, panting on the ground and cursing himself for not even wounding the prey. The gun, also sweating, spoke, "what was that all about, you didn't even tell me where you went you fool!"

"Give it a rest, excuse me, but I'm gonna pass out now," and what the lion said he did, and the gun followed his example.

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