Jerky
The squirrel considered himself a fine, proud specimen of his species. He had a particularly bushy tale and a wonderfully shiny red coat. Of course, the squirrel didn’t know he was called “the squirrel,” he just knew himself as “Steve.” He was also very confident in his reasoning ability, having never been captured or even hurt by a predator. You see, Steve realized a long time ago that you have to wait until the slow, albeit deadly, giants were gone to try and steal their food. Steve actually learned this lesson while his brother, who was also named Steve, got hit with an arrow while rushing away from a pack, laden with a small baggie of nuts. Steve didn’t see Steve too often these days, but the thought didn’t really bother him too much.
Steve watched the slow giant, who was covered in shiny skin, amble away from his pack. Steve loved shiny things, but he won’t let that distract him from his objective. The giant was obviously trying to trick him, but Steve would never let that happen. Steve chattered mirthfully as he watched the shiny giant lumber through the trees and out of sight.
Steve shot forward instantly, excited to finally reach his quarry after an almost unbearable three minutes of waiting. Steve hated waiting, but he knew this would be worth it. Steve climbed up the side of the pack and scrambled through the opening on the side. There, he found his prize, an enormous chunk of jerky. Steve lugged the jerky out of the pack and began to descend to the ground when he was flying. Steve was confused. Why was he flying? He looked around to find his answer and dropped his prized jerky in astonishment.
Clayton hated his parents. They were always trying to stifle is freedom when he was obviously meant to fly! He wasn’t some hatchling anymore, and all his brothers and sisters had long since left the nest. Clayton knew he was the favorite, and his parents treated him as such. Maybe they were afraid to become empty nesters, like the Pattersons. Whatever the case, Clayton was fed up. He and his girlfriend had flown the coop two days ago, but since then she had left him for some douche-bag of a Bald Eagle. Clayton didn’t care. He could make it on his own, easily.
Although he was hungry, he hadn’t eaten since his parents last fed him. He never really learned how to hunt and always relied on his more-than-stupid father to bring home food. But hunting couldn’t be too hard. You just grabbed some small creature and popped it in your mouth, right? His gizzard was churning. Just thinking about food made it worse. What Clayton would give for just one succulent, tender, morsel of—
A squirrel! There, on the ground, in that clearing! Clayton just had to dive and it was his! He plummeted towards the earth, eager to snatch his prey. He was inches away from the creature, when it darted out towards a back pack in the clearing. Clayton caught himself on a bush and ricocheted back out to the pack, but the squirrel was gone. Then it popped back out of the pack, holding a slab of meat. Clayton was ecstatic and grabbed the squirrel by its tail. He took off and felt his load lessen greatly when the squirrel dropped the meat in shock. Clayton was so happy, he’d done it! He was almost out of the clearing when he felt a stitch in his side. Before he knew it, he was falling, very much in pain.
The knight was dying. He’d been trekking for the better part of an afternoon from his defeat at meadow knoll. He knew he was lost in these woods, when he came to a landmark, the Clearing with One Boulder! He hurried over to the boulder and set his pack down upon it. He was really dying and walked over to the nearest tree to relieve himself. That felt much better, and he ambled back to his pack when he saw a squirrel sitting beside it, holding his jerky. Then a hawk swooped out from across the clearing and grabbed the squirrel, which was still holding his jerky. He sprinted over to his pack and grabbed his bow and an arrow as the hawk was escaping the clearing. The knight needed that jerky and wasn’t about to let some hawk rob him blind. He released the arrow just as the squirrel dropped the jerky, and the arrow struck true, right in the side of the hawk. The hawk managed to glide down and crumple in the clearing. The knight grabbed the squirrel and wrung his neck before making sure the hawk was dead. He strapped both onto his back and continued his hike homeward.
The park ranger had just finished overseeing a LARPing match that was scheduled to take place in his woods. It had almost gone off without a hitch if it weren’t for that one stupid boy who had shown up with a real bow and broad-head arrows covered in aluminum foil for armor. The park ranger just sent him home and watched him stalk off down the path to the parking lot. The ranger was making the trip himself when he saw the boy ahead of him. He must have gotten lost in the woods because everyone else had long since gone home. The boy had something tied to his back pack, and the park ranger jogged to get a closer look.
It was as he feared; the boy had a red-tailed hawk dangling on his back.
“Stop!” the ranger shouted, “you’re under arrest for poaching. Please cooperate and come quietly.”
As his response, the boy turned and launched an arrow at him. The park ranger dove out of the way and drew his handgun.
“Stand down, son. You don’t have to go through with this.” Another arrow flew and lodged itself into the tree above the ranger’s head.
The ranger stepped out, and the boy pulled back another arrow. This time, the arrow flew straight and true, and as it slashed the ranger’s jugular, he squeezed off one shot. It hit the kid right between the eyes, which was not where the ranger was aiming.