He waited among the reeds. The reeds were his friends. They kept his pray from escaping him, and they let him escape from the hunter. He was alone now, his mate and cubs had been killed. Their skins, “pelts” as they called them, now adorned the wall or floor of some hearltess person’s home. He paused for a moment, and then brought his mind back to the deer that he must kill, he was starving. The doe grazed serenely, and stood there alone, without any protection.
He was satisfied, it would not be as difficult as it usually was. He sprung out of the reeds and broke the deer’s neck before she had a chance to run. He feasted on her flesh while the vultures waited for him to leave.
Suddenly, the vultures were no longer there, no living animal was there. Now he realized, this was the end of his life. Moments before, he could’ve died an honorable death, by starving. Now he would shot, killed by one bullet. His fur would be ripped off, and it would be right next to the ones of family.