Whitefish River guernica

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@Rose

The pig snuffled along the embankment while death waited, bedeviling the shadows which sheathed the pulsing river. The creature meandered the bank of the river, overturning stones and inspecting the unearthed contents; its hunter moved in lockstep, obscured amongst the copse with a nimble prepense. Then the hunter shot out, and the beast screamed; jaws like vicegrips snapped closed and the prey surrendered its life to the victor with just a few thrashes of its moribund dance. 

and then the hunter was one with the hunted, which hung limp in his jaws, bereft of spirit. 

With experienced paws, the marbled brute set to work — he knew just what needed to be done. The carcass was laid upon the riverside and snipped open with the careful work of his incisors; the heart was extracted, though not with ease for a creature of middling size. The man's maw was smeared with the telltale claret hue of the deed… but he was a healer, an angakkuq, and blood had always been a sacred part of his upbringing and rituals. It never phased him. 

Trusting that his meal would not be embezzled by another, Komodo trotted away to a springtide seedling and dug a hole at its base. The organ was placed beneath it’s verdant sepulchre and recovered in the loamy earth.  In this way, the soul of the departed was honored and made to unite with its ancestors — and thought Komodo was a pious man, he turned back to feast upon the spoils of his hunt. At the moment, he was much too hungry for any more sacrament than that. 
 

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