I have been following the same tracks for days. I am high on the ridge, silhouetted – a sitting target. Lone Wolf warned me to seek shelter in the undergrowth, to keep my wits about me, to listen, watch and wait.
But my strength is low. My courage is fading and I know that if I deviate, if I try to use the skills I learned such a short time ago, I will be lost. Months from now, Howling Dog will find my bones, brittle and bleached by the sun and wind. My soul will watch, silent and mournful for all that might have been.
One foot in front of the other. The monotony strips my mind of thought.
All I know is that I must return. I must find my tribe again. I must prove myself and earn my man-name of He Who Roars.
Here’s my latest entry to the lovely Angela’s VisDare.
I hope you enjoy this week’s entry- and please do visit VisDare for amazing poetry and prose!