The hunt was over. A lucky, half-desperate thrust, and the prey was dead; the hunter was unmarked. Good luck indeed, considering this was his first kill.

Farre stared at the blood on his hands. He could not quite believe he had done it. Tonight, the pack would feast on meat he had provided. He should feel proud. He'd always assumed that when this moment finally came, he would be proud.

Instead he kept recalling his passage vision, and the memory made him feel ill. The beast was a youngling, not even full grown. It was just an animal, meat to sustain the tribe. And yet...

"If we are connected," he thought, "what does this killing mean?"

Poor Farre. You know, if I ever get a real narrative going, the poor boy is going to get run through a spiritual wringer. This one was drawn while visiting a friend and was in part inspired by the videogame he was playing. It's called Shadow of the Collosus and features a young hero fighting utterly enormous beasts of rock and fur. I think it's an improvement over what has been showing up over the last week or so, although it's messy... I really don't like using the sketchbook.

New! Hiker's Art Store is now open!