150 lines
6.4 KiB
Plaintext
150 lines
6.4 KiB
Plaintext
ÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜ ÜÜÜ ÜÜÜÜ
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ÜÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛßÛßßßßßÛÛÜ ÜÜßßßßÜÜÜÜ ÜÛÜ ÜÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÜÜÜÜÜÛßß ßÛÛ
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ßÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÜ ßÛÛ ÜÛÛÛÜÛÛÜÜÜ ßÛÛÛÛÜ ßÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÜÛÛÜÜÜÛÛÝ Ûß
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ßßßÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÜ ÞÝ ÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛßßÛÜÞÛÛÛ ÛÛÛÛÛÜ ßßÛÛÛÞß
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Mo.iMP ÜÛÛÜ ßÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÝÛ ÞÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛ ÞÛÛÛÛ ÞÛÛÛÛÛÝ ßÛß
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ÜÛÛÛÛÛÛÛ ÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÝ ÞÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÝ ÛÛÛ ÛÛÛÛÛÛ
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ÜÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÝ ÞÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛ ÞÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛ ß ÞÛÛÛÛÛÛÜ ÜÛ
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ÜÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÝ ÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛ ÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÝ ÞÞÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛß
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ÜÛßÛÛÛÛÛÛ ÜÜ ÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÝ ÛÛÞÛÛÛÛÛÝ ÞÛÛÛÛÛÛßß
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ÜÛßÛÛÛÛÛÛÜÛÛÛÛÜÞÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛ ÞÛ ßÛÛÛÛÛ Ü ÛÝÛÛÛÛÛ Ü
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ÜÛ ÞÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛß ÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛ ßÛÜ ßÛÛÛÜÜ ÜÜÛÛÛß ÞÛ ÞÛÛÛÝ ÜÜÛÛ
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ÛÛ ÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛß ÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÜ ßÛÜ ßßÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛß ÜÜÜß ÛÛÛÛÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÛÛÛÛÛß
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ßÛÜ ÜÛÛÛß ßÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÜ ßßÜÜ ßßÜÛÛßß ßÛÛÜ ßßßÛßÛÛÛÛÛÛÛßß
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ßßßßß ßßÛÛß ßßßßß ßßßßßßßßßßßßß
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ARRoGANT CoURiERS WiTH ESSaYS
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Grade Level: Type of Work Subject/Topic is on:
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[ ]6-8 [ ]Class Notes [Creative Story "Don't ]
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[x]9-10 [ ]Cliff Notes [Just Look in its Eyes" ]
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[ ]11-12 [x]Essay/Report [ ]
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[ ]College [ ]Misc [ ]
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Dizzed: o4/95 # of Words:891 School: ? State: ?
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ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ>ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ>ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ>Chop Here>ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ>ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ>ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ>ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ
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DON'T JUST LOOK IN ITS EYES
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ONE DAY BEHIND
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The snow blinded his vision. The crosshairs aimed at the subject, he
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fired, and missed. The deer, or whatever animal it was, ran off into a sea
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of snow.
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He said nothing. The old hunter was getting too ancient for this
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game. He decided to finish up for the day. He had already caught two snow
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rabbits, a small partridge and some kind of mink. Not bad he thought.
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"What is that?" Solomon rose from his crouched position to survey his
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prey. A standing animal? Was it a standing bear? Or was it a tree? No,
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it had walked off, seeing the look on the old's man face.
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"The day is not done." those words sealed his fate. Nothing would
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stop his hunting.
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"I must be about a day behind him." he thought aloud. He strode off
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into the sea of the snow.
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Is there a moment when the line between the hunter and the hunted
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snaps taut?
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That moment when I realize I've got him and he realizes he's dead?
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YES! First there's the dance, the slow teasing chase, the furtive
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glances, the glimpses of your prey, and his wild frantic glances back. And
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then the tug of war, of spirits, of wills, of endurance.
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The wire of tension draws tight. Like and umbilical cord, the hunter
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has bonded with his prey, forever, bonded by the life and death chase.
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The fuse of life burns shorter, bringing the hunter closer, close, and
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then the final intimacy of the kill!
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Does the dumb beast know its fate? Can he guess its fate? Can he sense
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his fate shadowing him, silently, stealthily?
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He pondered his ideas and saw some tracks.
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HALF A DAY BEHIND
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"I wonder what his flesh will taste like. Will it be tough? Will it
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bee..... AAAAACK!" Solomon gripped his hand on an icy branch. A snow
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capped tree had covered the pit layed before him, a trap by the animal
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which he was following.
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He did nothing. He waited, patiently.
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"...Beast, I will, I will get you." and he froze.
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FIVE DAYS BEHIND
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He gripped the ice, slipped, and cursed. He had been stuck in this
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hole for four, maybe five days now, according to the suns. How long more
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will he be in here?
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He tapped the ice with a small arrow. An idea! Forcing the arrow in
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the ice, more and more, until several large footholds stood in front of
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him.
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"...and my anxiety is gone."
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"Beast, Solomon will get you."
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The blowing snow almost, almost, covered the beast's tracks. Unlike
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any I have ever seen, whispered the old man. His bones ached with the
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cold, a cold he had seen before. West, west his mind told him. He tugged
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east.
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Soon after, he rested and cut up a rabbit, slowly letting the blood
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drip into the wind to carry the scent. By now he was about five days
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behind still, after his ordeal of climbing out. The beast was a smart one.
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"and I am smarter."
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An owl howled in the distance.
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STILL FIVE DAYS BEHIND
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More tracks! This time bending north. He went west. He could cut
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off this beast. The digestion of the rabbit was slow, the heart was the
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slowest. He rested to look for tracks, and check the suns. A half moon's
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change until he could catch up to the beast.
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" I WILL GET YOU!!!!!!!" Solomon screamed into the wind. He gibbered
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uncontrollably, then stopped.
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FOUR DAYS BEHIND
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The beast was a smart one. Double tracks he saw. The first led west,
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the second went east. The wind went west, blowing the dirty smell of a
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soon to be dead beast to him. He went east.
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"Your smell does not throw me off, your tricks do not fool me, I was
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once an animal, and I still am." Solomon cried in his heart and walked off.
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THREE DAYS BEHIND
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A dumb, deaf beast has done this to me again. The dumb, deaf, sly
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beast has done this to him again. The hole is colder now, he thought. Now
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the footholds will not help him. Arrows will not help him. Nothing will
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help him. The dumb deaf beast has done this to him.
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Maybe the beast will show up he thought, and he drifted off to sleep.
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He woke up with a sound, and a thud. An armful of snow dropped on his
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head, with a dull thud for the ice. He shook away the cobwebs and stood.
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He did not believe what he was seeing. Was it the black wolfwere? The
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beast that he was hunting?
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The wolfwere opened its lips, spat at the old man, and left. The
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bloody mess on his shoulder was congealing. He wiped it off, tried again,
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and let it be. Was HE following the beast? Or was it following him? All
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of his tricks, his cunning, and the beast had stopped him.
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How was he going to get out now?
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THE BEAST IS GONE
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"The beast is gone," cried the old man, crying, he rose to his feet.
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His face was wet and smeared with tears. He let the ice freeze, then sat,
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and wept. He could hear the beast, the beast inside him, insulting him on
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his foolishness. An ending fit for a king.
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