clarity

@Tomahawk

It had been about three weeks. He had not looked for her, nor waited for her to pass him by. He had kept away, and did not so much as loiter the plains nor the areas that neighbored it. From time to time she would invade his mind, and he would dismiss her.

This time, however, was different.

He had happened upon a bounty, an old doe that had succumbed to her age. He was the first to find her. His teeth, slick like a knife, opened her belly, and out poured his choice of the finest meats. He sought the liver with swiftness, intent to devour it before any other predator winded the easy meal, but was halted. There, still nestled in its sac, an unborn fawn. The time for birthing was almost past, and he would have been birthed soon were it not for his mother's death.

She would be giving birth soon.

It was a moment of clarity. Of what he had to do. He tore open the sac, grasped the fawn by the neck and made haste to the plains, pausing only at a stream to rinse it clean. Without the blood, it was almost odorless. His eyes swept the grasses, looking for her.