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New hunting technique essay
Hunting technique essay
Hunting technique essay
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The rumble of distant cars could still be heard from the forest. It has already been days since Viktor had chased the rabbit across the highway. It was a hunt that went terribly wrong. The scent of a plump, juicy rabbit was detected during a midnight hunt and stalked for some time. Viktor hesitated in pouncing on the prey and this delay turned out to be a fatal mistake. Once given this opportunity, the rabbit had finally caught scent of the wolf from a shift in the wind. The chase started prematurely and an easy catch suddenly turned into a long, arduous run. Viktor had tailed the rabbit for quite some time, but he was determined to regain control of the hunt. He got closer and closer to his midnight snack, when the view of trees suddenly disappeared and replaced with a large span of gravel and concrete. They had somehow managed to arrive at the Great Thunderpath, named after the distinctive sound that cars made when driving past compared to the sound of thunder. This was the boundary between the two wooded areas. Not many wolves were known to have crossed it due to the controversy that shrouds this highway in mystery. Many wolves have died near this road when human construction began and started to pave out a path. Habitats were destroyed and as a result a significant amount of sources of food disappeared along with it. This was part of the reason food was so scarce this winter. However, it was crucial for Viktor that he catch this rabbit and not for all this effort to go to waste. This year’s winter has been especially cruel, the brutality was unmistaken. It arrived several moons early and taken many unprepared souls as a result. The sudden arrival may have been caused by old tensions between the long gone huma...
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...r have slowly retracted its control over the forest and spring starts to retake the land. A lot of things have changed, especially for Viktor. Once he fully recovered, he sought to return home and find his pack. His guilt was overwhelming him, so he believed that he could make things better for the pack and himself by returning. He knew that they would not receive him kindly after what he had done in the past. However, Viktor had ideas to help with his newfound knowledge of the area and a sense of how humans operate. These things would allow him to lead his pack to a safer area where humans would not be bothering them for a while and he would teach them how to avoid them. This is exactly what had happened and things are almost all back to normal. The transition back to normalcy has been anything but smooth, but the journey is the only thing worth remembering.
One night he sprang from sleep with a start, eager-eyed, nostrils quivering and scenting, his mane bristling in recurrent waves. From the forest came the call(or one note of it, for the call was many noted), distinct and definite as never before—a long-drawn howl, like, yet unlike, any noise made by husky dog. And he knew it, in the old familiar way, as for as sound heard before. He sprang through the sleeping camp and in swift silence dashed through the woods. As he drew closer to the cry
Through powerful visuals and specific vocabulary, Cormac thoroughly portrays the main character’s sorrow that was prompted by the loss of the animal he highly respects. The protagonist seeks to find a suitable burial site for the wolf, hoping to uncover and reveal the perfect place from Night’s blanket of darkness. Detailed descriptions establish a sense of deep respect as the main character “cradled the wolf in his arms and lowered her to the ground and unfolded he sheet. She was stiff and cold and her fur was bristly with the blood dried upon it” (McCarthy 5-8). The main character’s actions reveal great care and love for the wolf. It is difficult for an individual to cope with the death of an animal he/she places high regard for. Although wolves are often seen as brutal and deadly animals, McCarthy uses elaborate details to portray wolves as majestic and brave creatures. Such contrast is also achieved through a precise use of diction. He touches the “cold and perfect teeth”. The wolf’s “eye turned to the fire gave no light,” until the ...
Mowat uses the rhetorical strategy of Logos to try and convince the reader of his claim `that wolves aren’t savage killers by giving the reader evidence that is possible and without emotion. At the beginning of the book, Mowat goes into the “Lupine Project” with the mindset that the wolves are savage killers with no emotion. Mowat later realized when he finally made contact with the wolves that they were conservative and cared for each other. In the text Mowat describes an occasion in which he witnessed when “Angeline would nuzzle her mate... bumping him affectionately with her shoulders”(172). This shows that
That evening, Rainsford began his search. All of a sudden, he heard a scream. Not very wise, Rainsford noted. Now he knew exactly where one of the prisoners was located. Then, he heard a loud snarl and growl. But that’s not all that he heard. He also heard a bark. One of the dogs is still loose! Rainsford had to hurry back, or else he will be the next one killed. Rainsford began to sprint. He soon heard the sound of paws hitting the ground. He heard the snarl, and the growl. He heard the deep bark of the beast right behind him. Rainsford ran for his life. Suddenly, he tripped on a rock and hit the ground hard. Excruciating pain shot through his body. But that would be nothing compared to what was next. The very same beast who killed Zaroff had now killed Rainsford. There were no more survivors left on the island. Only the dogs
Mandatory sentencing is not anything new. It began in the 1970s. The main purpose for mandatory sentencing was to try to get rid of the drug lords and to eliminate most of the nation’s street drug selling. It was to impose that the same crime would have the same sentence all over the nation. Some of the negatives that rose from mandatory sentencing were nonviolent drug offenders and first time offenders who were receiving harsh sentences. Inmate populations and correction costs increased and pushed states to build more prisons. Judges were overloaded with these cases, and lengthy prison terms were mandated to these young offenders. Mandatory sentencing is an interesting topic in which I would like to discuss my opinions in going against mandatory sentencing. I will show the reasons for this topic, as well as give you my personal brief on which I support.
I curiously pondered what I would discover if I walked to the end, but I never discovered if a trail led to a creek bed or a field filled with wildflowers. Instead, I walked halfway until I decided to leave what laid there to my imagination. Truthfully, I regretted not continuing to finish my adventures, but my fear of snakes kept me from moving on. That day, I encountered a live snake sleeping in its natural habitat. After seeing the cottonmouth’s body coiled in a muddy ditch near me, I feared meeting another snake if I was not careful. Even though Maria tried to convince me to follow her through brambles and tall grasses into a wide clearing, I remained with Shams and her melodica. The coral orange and lavender wildflowers swaying in the clearing tempted me to follow though. Sauntering on the cut-out trails, Shams and I serenaded animals hidden amongst the trees with Prokofiev and Rachmaninoff. While on one particular path, a family of deer leaped quickly across our road. They jumped so gracefully and silently in the air that I stopped playing Mozart to watch them. Mosquitoes swarmed and bit my exposed skin as Shams led me to see a hole that dropped almost thirty feet to the bottom of a
As Bill and Henry travel through the frozen, snow covered territory they notice the wolves following a little closer every day. Building fires at night to keep warm and to keep the wolves at bay, the men sense the animals closing in slowly but surely every day and every night.
Awaken by the hot breath of decaying sausages; I look up to find a panting dog, its drool patting my face, as if it were consoling me. With the realization of a dog resting on me sinking in, I jumped against the tree for support, resulting with sudden recoil on the dog’s part. It scattered away, the claws scratching the lonely surface of the earth with each tread. A crazed infatuation in following that dog overcame me. Instinct won over and I had to quicken my pace to keep up.
Focusing in my camera, I snap the picture. Noticing in the background, I observe some animal tracks. Looking closer, I identify that they’re rabbit tracks that snow laid a blanket over. After studying my picture I start to stroll back. The grass starts to dance in the breeze, when I hurry back to the snowmobile track covered trail. As I’m scurrying back, the snow crunches under
As I crept out of the window around a quarter to midnight, I ran to the barn to saddle Chestnut. I had to be very quiet so the master would not be disturbed. My pockets were filled with potatoes and bread. Although I was hungry and could smell the aroma of the freshly cooked bread from the night before, I knew I needed to lead the horse out with food to keep him in my favor. The horse neighed softly and followed me out to the pasture. Gaining his trust, I hoisted myself on his back and off we trotted. Miles later, I stopped behind an old abandoned barn to rest for the night. As the morning sun began its journey, I noticed something familiar a patch of woods with a frozen lake. If I remembered correctly, my dad’s old master owned these woods. I spent my childhood running
He had to act fast, because the storm was on it’s way. The Bear started to hand out food to every animal in the forest. The storm was getting closer. He was almost done, except for one, his friend the raccoon. The Bear asked around, but nobody knew where the raccoon was. The Bear looked everywhere, but couldn’t find the raccoon. The storm hit, rain falling, wind blowing harder than ever, trees rumbling and falling over. All the animals in the forest ran into their hiding places, except for the Bear. He ran and ran through the rain and over the fallen trees, until he finally found his friend, the raccoon. He was hiding in a hollowed out log, barely sheltered from the rain. The Bear scooped up the raccoon and ran to his cave, where they would be sheltered from the harsh winter storm. The Bear was running as fast as he could to his cave, they were almost there, he could see it just ahead. Ten more long Bear steps and they would be safe, but with a strong gust of wind, a large oak tree tipped, and tipped, and then down it went, crashing onto the Bear. The raccoon flew out of his arms and landed in the cave, all he could do was
Maybe this is something to think about. Someone has an assignment. S/he is told that it is an honor but some rules make the person alone and hurt. Lois Lowry's book, The Giver, the Chief Elder, old and honorable, selects Jonas, a member of the utopian community to be the 'The Receiver of Memory.' But she says and the rules states that Jonas's training will involve lots of pain, that he is allowed to lie, and cannot take any medications. Jonas's assignment of his is more like a punishment instead of an honor like the Chief Elder told him.
I have been lurking through this forest now for a week since waking up from hibernation. The last thing I had to eat was a motting carcass of deer, that wolves had cleaned off about a week prior. Even the maggots tasted good, as I was very famished. My little cub came running up to me as his paws scruffed the ground - “Mama mama” as little cub was frightened. I mama bear watched my little cub frightened from a two legs,“ little one come here I have a story to tell”. I was walking in sodden and through bog-holes looking for a carcass of an animal or something with flesh. My paws were abraded by the long paths long the county line road. It was in the middle of spring and all the animals were coming out of hibernation and I was one of them. I
He admires the world that he live in, the way everything supposes to be. On the way through the canopy filled with dark air, he finds himself among the creepers that dropped along the canopy suddenly shiver as he walks by them, create a pleasant welcome. As Simon finds a beautiful glade that fills with life, which he contemplates the island's sights and sounds as he meditates. Soon after helping the littluns gather fruits, he continued his went on a path that opened in front of him, “Soon high jungle closed in. Tall trunks bore unexpected pale flowers all the way up to the dark canopy where life went on clamorously. The air here was dark too, and the creepers dropped their ropes like the rigging of foundered ships. His feet left prints in the soft soil and the creepers shivered throughout their lengths when he bumped them...the sounds of the bright fantastic birds, the bee-sounds, even the crying of the gulls that were returning to their roosts among the square rocks, were fainter. The deep sea breaking miles away on the reef made an undertone less perceptible than the susurration of the
A scream passing through an open window at the edge of town rattles the settled sounds of a night tucked in, the filtering whispers of leaves outside in the breeze interrupted, yielding to the call of a helpless exater protected by sound walls; only the nearby creek persists. Call of crickets resign under full moon, and hill-riding wind halts for a moment following the cry. Slowly, the leaves begin to whisper again, though slightly muffled, offset by the impression of a scream when it was the last thing on the night’s mind.