The Hunt

He slung the rifle over his shoulder and exhaled into the evening. Beside him lay a boar, still warm, that I had just killed. The dogs stood nearby, softly growling.

As the light faded and stars began to appear and the temperature sank below zero, his emerging silhouette of camouflage-stained trousers and blood-stained boots might have been from a hillside in a different time and a different place.