Not Like You (The Simian Forest Saga: Vol. I)

The Brothers [IX]

The sun created a honeyed glow that stretched across the forest floor in shafts, breaking into fractals and scattering in dapples as it danced across the greenery. It was cool that morning, the apes' breath coming in gentle clouds of condensation from their lips and nostrils. Pine stirred next to his twin, the two waiting intently for the proper moment. They were hunting from two different stand-points, some settled in the foliage, some in the trees. Pine and Slate's knuckles brushed, their spears hovering parallel to one another as they rested over the slope, watching the massive fuzzy shapes as they grazed peacefully. The scarred chimp had hunger pains in his gut, and the thought of venison made him feel the need to lick his chops. Slate's nose twitched and his hand stirred. 'You sure this will work?' asked his younger brother. Pine felt anger boil in his chest. Of course it would work! He gave Slate a hardened bicolored gaze, patchy irises flashing, although he kept his irritated grunts silent. His brother always had his doubts about him when a plan didn't seem completely foolproof. What did he know?

'It will,' he confirmed arrogantly.

'All you caught last time was a scrawny human,' Slate pointed out. 'And some fish.' His amber depths always had this air to them, as if he could see through him and pick out all the faults in the grand design of things; as if he knew more than he, as if he were superior. As if he would do a better job at hunting than he. Pine could strangle him. Rolling his two-toned peepers, he brought a hand to his tattered and nearly non-existent ear, and scratched. Gnats buzzed around their heads, which they ignored. It was normal when the weather was changing. Soon the leaves would change color and some females would decorate their headdresses, and the little ones would make their leaf collections with Maurice.

This was how Caesar had done it, right? How Koba had? Pine knew he was doing his deceased elders a favor. If the battered bonobo were still around, he'd know exactly what to do in Cornelius' place. He didn't see prince Cornelius out here, leading the hunts. Maybe even Blue Eyes could have lead, if it hadn't been for the humans. Anybody would have been better than the Soft Prince of the Oasis, as he and his companions called him. 'Are you in charge of this hunt?' Pine accused, curling his lip, 'I know what I'm doing. Now shut your mouth.'

Turning his attention back up toward the treeline, he gave the first signal. Tension built as they pressed forward up the hill, the ranks coming into place. The air quivered, a few of the herbivores becoming glued to the spot, their ears swiveling nervously. Pine's group waited with anticipation, eyes darting from him to their prey. The rush that he felt as they all looked to him as their leader, all waiting for his call, his orders-- it felt glorious. His fur began to bristle along his shoulders. They would wait until he began the hunt. The swelling in his chest became immense, a wicked grin curling at his lips as he now sat crouched on the slope. Suddenly, one of the massive beasts spooked. Immediately, a mighty roar bursting from the male's lips as they burst through the vegetation, Pine the closest to the herd as it fled. The ground shook with the thunder of hooves as the deer leapt over logs and jagged stones. Pine had lost sight of Slate at this point, his eyes now searching for a limping stag, an ill doe, or perhaps even a fawn-- if he were lucky. As soon as Pine's group was in sight, the troop above in the trees soared to the ground, some landing upon their prey and some ducking among the bodies that were cutting through the air. A few hunters were kicked at or bowled over, the herd's numbers bleeding through and managing to escape like sand through one's fingers. Apes broke off in quadrants and pursued their own, Pine proudly falling in behind a doe as she dragged her back leg into the tall redwoods. He took to the closest tree, leaping from trunk to trunk and keeping an eye on her as she slowed, beginning to believe that she was indeed safe. Peering closely at the wounded doe, he noticed a familiar piece of artillery sticking out of her injured haunch, revealing the source of her pain. The arrow was mottled at the tail, feathers frayed from being dragged through coarse undergrowth. Perhaps this human had ended up useful after all.