To hunt successfully, you must know your ground, your pack and your quarry.
                     —K. J Parker

Venturing into the woods outside Steelfort’s cold, metal walls never grew old on Gael Davenport, not one bit. The experience was always new and invigorating, because, unlike Steelfort, nature changed. Nature breathed, grew, and lived. Outside the city walls, the seasons truly flourished. The bird calls in the spring weren’t drowned out by traffic and industry, and the trees grew mightily, displaying the full beauty of autumn in red and golden leaves that eventually fell to revitalize the earth. 

A fresh breeze washed over Gael’s face as he cruised along in a rusty maroon pickup truck, all the windows rolled down to allow the clean air from outside to enter the cab. His hands danced on the steering wheel as he turned off the predictable asphalt road and onto a dirt lane riddled with bumps, cracks, and indentations. He continued down this path for a while, until even the dirt road gave way to light brush. Thankfully, Gael’s truck was as stalwart as its driver, so they proceeded deeper into the woods. 

Eventually, Gael reached a point where his truck could no longer proceed. Trees began to grow in closer clusters, the bushes and ferns reached higher, and the terrain itself lent itself far less to safe driving. He parked the weather-beaten vehicle outside a cluster of saplings with golden leaves and stepped out. 

With the low hum of the truck’s engine gone, Gael could fully take in the paradoxical atmosphere of the woods. Out here, the air felt decisively more still than within the walls of Steelfort, but yet it also buzzed with sound and activity of its own. Birds sang and trilled from the treetops, and if Gael listened closely, he could faintly make out the sound of a bubbling brook with croaking frogs near it. In all, the woods carried a distinctly active silence. 

Gael headed to the back of his truck and began rummaging for supplies to assist him in his hunting venture. First, he wriggled into his backpack, well-stocked with snacks, a first aid kit, and a waterproof blanket in case the worst case scenarios made themselves reality. Then he slung a pair of binoculars around his neck, and lastly, hoisted a rifle from the back of the truck with an air of seriousness. 

Trudging through the damp brush with the rifle in his hands, Gael’s thoughts strayed to memories of hunting in these same woods with his father. Everything he’d learned about shooting a gun, tracking through the woods, transporting a kill…it’d all been from his father. A pang of sadness washed through Gael as he wished they could be reliving one of those memories at this very moment. 

The hunt itself took little conscious thought on Gael’s part; he simply acted on the instincts his father had taught him. Creeping through the woods with shadows and bushes concealing his position, along with the camouflage clothes he wore, Gael became essentially an inconspicuous piece of the landscape. Occasionally, he would come to a complete stop to regain his bearings and glance about with the binoculars. After all, hunting wouldn’t properly begin until he found some game to specifically track down and shoot. 

During one such check, he spotted a prime target--a healthy doe making her way along the bank of a shallow creek and stopping here and there to forage. The brush between Gael and the deer would serve him well, sparse enough to advance without getting tangled and caught, while also thick enough to offer complete cover. Not only that, but based on the current wind conditions, the doe would be unable to catch Gael’s scent. 

For hundreds of paces, Gael found his advance inconspicuous and unencumbered. But then peeking ahead, his heart sunk in dismay. A stretch of blackberry brambles awaited him farther on, branches riddled with thorns and prickly leaves. Though his hunting garb wouldn’t easily be torn by the thorns, they still had a tendency to catch on the fabric and then rustle upon release, completely negating any stealth he’d previously possessed. 

After a moment’s contemplation, Gael opted to crawl across that stretch. It’d be ironically faster than squeezing carefully through the gaps between brambles and quietly extricating himself from any thorns that inevitably clung to him. So onto his belly Gael went, legs spread out behind him to push himself forward and elbows supporting his upper body. He cradled his rifle in his arms and crawled onward. 

The earthy smell of damp soil filled Gael’s nose as he crept along. The bird calls he’d been hearing constantly when standing upright now filtered through the bushes surrounding him. Now they sounded oddly diminished and distant. Strange how the entire experience of the woods could be altered just by dropping a few feet to the earth. 

Soon enough, Gael reached the end of his corridor of blackberries. With slow, careful movements, he rose to his feet and peeked over the tops of some tall ferns. To his surprise, the doe had moved a long ways from where he’d last seen her. She’d left the creek and now stood relatively in the open, ears twitching as if attempting to pick up some sound. In addition, her flank pointed right at Gael, a position he considered the ideal shot.

Gael raised his rifle, flicked the safety off, and peeked through the gun’s sights. His father had prided himself on never needing scopes beyond his first hunt, which Gael had refused to believe during his lifetime. But now, with him gone...it couldn’t hurt to think highly of his father. 

But Gael had to brush those thoughts aside. He’d need absolute focus to pull off one fatal shot that would kill his game instantly, cause only a second’s pain, and not ruin too much of the meat. He picked his target, held his breath, and fired. 

After the loud bang ripped through the forest, the doe dropped dead in its tracks, toppling over on the damp ground in one clean movement. Most of the woods seemed to go silent momentarily as Gael stepped out of his cover to stake a bright orange flag in the ground and thereby claim his kill. Slowly, the bird calls trickled back in, but whether Gael merely imagined it or not, a certain melancholy had descended over the place. Once he reached the dead deer, he wriggled his fingers into some rubber gloves and then unsheathed a handsome knife. Now came the literally gut-wrenching part of his hunt; he’d have to gut his kill. 

                         ******

After removing the deer’s innards, burying them in the ground, and then retrieving a strange sort of sled from his truck to drag the meat over, he hoisted it into the truck bed and hopped in to drive back to Steelfort. 

The rich gold and red colors of the woods gave way to cold, unchanging grays and silvers when he drove through Steelfort’s southern gate. Unlike the refreshing unpredictability of nature, the traffic within the city adhered to a predictable routine. Gael fell into his place in the flow of cars, behind a screechy green sedan that needed new brakes and ahead of a polished purple luxury vehicle belonging to some official or another. The monotonous ebb and flow on the streets made it easy to zone out without compromising safety for any one driver or those around him. 

After a few minutes of driving, Gael pulled up to a parking spot in the back of a worn-down building belonging to a man he knew well and regarded almost as an uncle or an older brother—the neighborhood butcher. A man of short stature with sinewy arms, patchy facial hair, and several missing teeth, the butcher wasn’t a particularly attractive man, but his kindness and willingness to offer an open ear were enough to win anyone over. And the fact most of Steelfort’s meat had at one point passed through his hands and under his skillful blade also spoke well for him. 

Gael hopped out of his truck and walked a few paces to the back door of the butcher shop. After ringing the doorbell, he stepped back and waited. Sometimes, the wait would be only a minute or two, and other times, up to half an hour. It all depended on whether the butcher was in the middle of carving out pieces of meat or not. 

As it turned out this particular day, Gael stood for eleven patient minutes before the butcher swung his back door open and emerged. Rubbing his hands on an off-white cloth, he regarded Gael with a burdened expression uncharacteristic to him. Momentarily, a slight smile tugged at his lips which was clearly at least a little forced. 

“Afternoon, Davenport.” the butcher greeted him, “What’d you catch today?” 

“A doe,” Gael answered simply, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his trousers. 

“Ah. Shouldn’t have expected anything different. She make it easy for you?” 

“It was an unusually easy kill. I’m not complaining though; last few hunts have been tough.” 

“I remember.” the butcher said as he walked up to the back of Gael’s truck. “You told me all about it.” 

“Well, you always wanna know the story behind your meat.” 

“That I do. It gives the animal some dignity in their death...if they deserved it, that is.” 

Gael chuckled slightly, mouth slanting to the left side of his angular face as he did so. “You have some eccentric beliefs.” 

The butcher shrugged. “Takes an eccentric fella to cleave flesh and walk in blood all day. Give me a hand with this thing, would you?” 

Gael hurried over and helped the butcher hoist his catch out of the truck bed, first just the body and head. They carried it inside before coming back out to retrieve the legs. Next, the butcher would weigh the meat and pay Gael accordingly. 

Anticipation swirled in Gael’s breast as the butcher began wheeling a scale over. After all, the heavier his kill, the more he’d earn for the meat, and that particular doe had made the sled pretty difficult to drag. If it made him enough money, he might even be able to buy his mother something extra special for her upcoming birthday. 

By the time Gael pulled himself out of his musings, the butcher had laid the meat on the scale, and an impressive 59 flashed across its display. 

“Just about 60 kilos.” the butcher said with a proud smile, “I’ll pay you like it is.” 

“Sounds good.” 

The butcher unpocketed a calculator, tapped out a few numbers, and then gave Gael a conclusive nod. “That’ll be 8,400 shillings for you today.” 

Gael frowned. “Shouldn’t that be more like 9,000? I thought your rate was 150 per kilo.” 

“It was. I thought my tax rate was 21%. Now it’s 30.” 

“Oh...I see. Things are getting tough for all of us, I guess.” 

The butcher shook his head ruefully as he stepped toward his money vault. “That they are. Thank ol’ Aleric for that.” 

“As if we don’t give him thanks enough by filling his pockets with our hard-earned cash,” Gael said with an undertone of bitterness. 

“I know. Nobody’s happy around here except the boneheads in the government house. But what’s a guy to do, rebel?” 

Gael snorted. “That’s a quick way to end up dead or worse.” 

“Too true. I don’t know about you, Davenport, but I don’t have enough time to be dead.” 

“Me either. I’ve got a mom and sister to look after. With Dad gone...yeah.” 

The butcher emerged from the vault with a wad of money and a sympathetic expression. “I feel your pain. Your old man was worth every liter of respect he got...shame what happened to him. But chin up; he left you some big shoes to fill.” 

Gael nodded thoughtfully as he took the money. “I’m doing my best. Thanks for everything.” 

“My pleasure. Take care of yourself out there.” 

“I will.” 

With that, Gael made his way out the door, into his truck, and back onto the road. Though it was still a downer he hadn’t made as much money off that kill as he would have in months past, it’d still be enough to cover the month’s rent. Whatever his mother had in her wallet would now be hers to spend however she pleased. Things were tough, but by God’s grace, they weren’t yet impossible. 

                              ★★★★

Ayyy, there we have it! The prologue is up.

We also got a glimpse of what Steelfort is like! Very much like steel, I know 😂

And we met one of the main characters😏

What are your thoughts on Gael? What kind of vibe do you believe he emits?

Leave your thoughts in the comments section. And I will gladly welcome them.😁

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Until next time, hunt for your dreams😁❤