Live for Action, Die for Freedom

PREVIEW:

"It will be an Adventure." I could hear my father say.

 I am Kestrel, and these are the words that echoed in my head as I slid on my hunting boots.

They've been in the cabin for as long as I could remember, my father said he saved them just for me when  got older. They were light brown, with little designs on the insides of a flag with thirteen red and white stripes, a square of blue, and a number of stars. He said they were military issue of the Americans, people who lived in this place a long time before us. The boots fit perfectly.

Stepping outside, I examined the cabin. Ever since my father passed, I've been living on my own.

I was fourteen, and we were out hunting the whole day. When it was time to regroup, he didn't show up at our normal spot on the other side of the valley.

Adonis seemed to be worried about something, so I searched the tree line in hopes I would find him in need of assistance with a large kill.

But instead I found him dead, poisoned, surrounded by a thicket hemlock.

It was odd, because he was the one that taught me about hemlock's deadly properties. That you had to eat it in order for it to affect you. Why would he eat it?

I never found the answer to that question, but I've avoided that particular area of the valley since the incident, only two years ago.

But I will always remember what he taught me.

This is a wild and free place called Indian Valley; Where the sky is clear, and hills are  plentiful. Where life is lived happily and freely by those who are determined to survive. 

Ever since then, I have been living on my own, quite happily.

Oak and pine trees inhabit the rolling hills and widespread valleys. I live where the wild things are, in harmony with my fellow creatures.

As I in a breath of the cool morning air, I go back inside.

As long as I can remember, I've lived in this cabin in a grove of centuries old oak trees.

When I was a little girl, my father would teach me day and night of the ways of nature. From moving great distances in complete silence, to which plants will cure a headache, to how to take a life with bare hands. This is my life, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

The fire was dying out in my old pot-belly stove, and the hairs on the bear skin rug flitted in a draft from the doorway.

I turned to the wall opposing the bunk beds, and took my recurve bow off of its stand. As I slung a quiver onto my shoulder, Adonis did his morning stretch and stepped off of the lower bunk.

Adonis is an old friend of mine.

My father and I found him as a young pup after his mother was killed by other wolves. He was nestled under his mother's lifeless neck, we wouldn't have seen him if it werent for my natural curiosity.

I was told wolves are new to the valley, that over the past 50 or so years, a population of them made their way into this place. Packs began fighting between eachother for dominance over the main valley, this is probably how his mother died.

Adonis is like me, an outcast of the pack, no one to take care of him. But we have eachother, and that is more than enough.

One look at eachother, and we agreed it was time to get breakfast. So I picked up my game stringer and we went outside, hopped off the wooden porch, and moved at a fast hunters pace through the grove.

We headed up a hill that guards the east side of our homestead, our senses fully alert for possible meals. Mainly I felt like bagging a few rabbits, because theyre a favorite in the nearby village.

I go to the village to trade for any necesities such as oil, cloth, or ammunition for the rifle back at home. It has a population of about 20 people, we have a special relationship. I bring fresh meat, they provide me with news and stories. We have a good time. 

I see Adonis trotting through the trees 50 yards away. Just as I snap back to my hunting focous, from the corner of my eye I notice a cottontail rabbit has seen me, and is standing completely still in hope that I have not seen him too. 

I raise my bow and slowly turn to aim at him. He remains still, yet alert, eyes fixed on me, ready to take flight. I release my arrow, and he falls over with kicking legs. Heart shot. I run over with my knife unsheathed and slit his throat.

"Thank you, for your life." I whisper to the rabbit. "Today, you. Tomorrow, me."

After bagging a few more rabbits, and a couple of ground squirrels, the stringer became heavy with the morning's kill. Adonis did his fair share in chasing down some of the rabbits. Ones I would have missed, had he not sniffed them out. We make a good team. The valley seemed especially lively today, after all, it was the first day of summer. A spring swells up from a bed of rocks on the other side of the hill, making a good rest spot. As I cleaned the kills, Adonis ate from the gut pile, he seemed to enjoy it quite a lot. 

Saving the rabbit skins, I tied them to the stringer, and we headed back up the hill towards our cabin. 

Cooing of mourning doves added to the symphony of bird songs through the trees. This time of the year the deep green grass brushes my waist. Wildflowers of so many colors dot the valley floor in shades of purple, yellow, red, and blue. Butterflies of the same bright colors make the flowers come alive, and the slight breeze is filled with their trememdously sweet smell. A herd of elk lazily makes its way across the valley floor. I would try to get one, if I didn't already have a deer hanging back home. Even Adonis only gazes at them as we make our way into the oak grove we call home. On a day like this, everyone has a full stomach.

After setting out the rabbit pelts to dry, and hanging up the fresh kills in the cabin, Adonis and I decide to have a lazy afternoon. I climbed My favorite oak tree In front of our cabin, at the edge of the grove, and Adonis circled the trunk of the tree several times before laying down to nap. Hawks began circling in the sky over the area I left the guts, and the elk continued grazing lazily in the field of flowers. 

Hanging my bow and quiver on a nearby branch, I stretched out in the wide fork of my oak tree as I closed my eyes.

"Adventure and beauty. What more is there to life?" I thought to myself. "Nothing. This is happiness." 

I smiled to myself, I could hear the bugle of an elk. Happiness is freedom.

Preview chapter guys, not much yet, but I promise adventure is to come! Stay tuned please! :D

To the right is a picture of kestrel XD