Fireside

Thunder roiled. Darkness swayed from side to side. Wind rustled the grass. A green scent was flowing through the air. Three men stood side by side, taking turns on a pair of binoculars. The binoculars were speckled green camouflage, but they were not really hiding anything in the lush green expanse. Ever noticed how camouflage is not really the green of the grass. The grass is bright, literally holding the sun’s light. Camouflage colors are the color of what goes into the toilet. Excretion. The men stood there, silently taking turns with the seeing glasses. They were looking at a lone vicūna, standing there, long neck reaching down to graze the grass. A brown color over the fur around it’s back, an off white one everywhere else. It was a beautiful specimen of a deer. The men looked the same, haggard beards, gaunt eyes, which were sinking into their faces. A small breeze pushed against them, stopping, going around. It brought with it the smell of meat, which made the men salivate. They moved. Fast. quietly. Feet barely touching the ground before they made another step. In sync. In bounds. The deer realized they were there, and it made a run for it. But it was too late. .two of them already had their weapons out, and the third was putting his to his mouth. All as one, they blew. The deer feel, a thud, a quick scream, then its head hit the ground, and everything was quiet.

Three men were walking across the savannah a heavy weight on their backs. The sun was drowsy. Orange and red, hues colored the sky.

It was night, stars shining bright up above, and a warm hearthy fire glowing down below. Silence but for the crackling of the fire. But they heard the sounds of life, accustomed as they were to it. Red gleaming meat was rolling on a fire, roasting above it. Smell strong and pungent. The men were tearing at it with their mouths. They looked calm and relaxed, but that belied how alert they were. Hands taut, and stretched, legs coiled like an animal about to pounce. Eyes aware of everything in their vision, darting to anything that seemed to move out of place.

Their skins were bright and fresh, their hair oily and long, natural oils. Their muscles as if sculpted. They were seated on rocks, but did not seem to feel the discomfort. They looked as if they were ageless, they had a timeless quality to them. When you looked at them, you would imagine as if you had seen the beginning of the universe and its end. You imagined them at both events, and at everything in between. When they looked at you, their eyes, all three pairs blue, yellow, and light deep brown, respectively were piercing and would make you feel naked. If they were to look at you, yes you, they would laugh. They would think you were prey, you with your soft bodies, with your inability to fend for yourself, with all the problems in your head you create for yourself. If they were to look at you and laugh, you would be very afraid. You would have a natural fear to their sneers, as prey does to the gaze of a predator, when its hair stands on, goosebumps.

They ate their meat. The fire roared.