Import.
"The tracks lead here." Said the Indian, in his hoarse and firm voice. It's important to remember that he was, indeed, a Native American, because it would be otherwise impossible to tell. He wore a Woodstock shirt, stained with what seemed to be buffallo sauce, and cutoff blue jeans.
"I know," was all that his short companion could manage to say, "we've been here for three hours." Taking long breaths and gripping the upper bridge of his nose, he spoke again. "Every time you try to find out where the tracks lead, and it's always to the other set of tracks. And then you try to find out where those lead, and it's always to this set of tracks. I thought you were a qualified tracker."
"I am. My name means 'One with nature', it is my duty to be the tracker for my tribe."
"Well then get tracking! We only have a few more minutes of sunlight left!" Exclaimed the short man, obviously intent on finding his prey before the sun set.
"Well then, let us observe that pair of tracks over there." The Indian stated, in a way that almost made it sound like a new idea.
"But we've already looked at those tracks, and they lead back here."
As the Indian observed the tracks, he paced back and forth along their path. After a few minutes of observation, he began to analyze the situation aloud.
"These tracks were left hours ago... they seem to be a man's tracks, running, by the looks of it."
"I. Know. That." Grunted the short man, gritting his teeth in frustration. "I told you that a man stole my wallet and ran through here several hours ago. Can you please help me find out where he went?"
"These tracks offer no insight, let us observe the other pair." Suggested the Indian, seemingly forgetting the fact that he had checked those tracks merely minutes before. The purple sky soon lightened, transitioning into a deep crimson and then into a vibrant orange, finally springing into a lively yellow.
"We must rest, my friend," offered the Indian, "I fear that the answers that you seek are not here, and it is getting late."
All the while, the bald man stood in shock.
"I know," was all that his short companion could manage to say, "we've been here for three hours." Taking long breaths and gripping the upper bridge of his nose, he spoke again. "Every time you try to find out where the tracks lead, and it's always to the other set of tracks. And then you try to find out where those lead, and it's always to this set of tracks. I thought you were a qualified tracker."
"I am. My name means 'One with nature', it is my duty to be the tracker for my tribe."
"Well then get tracking! We only have a few more minutes of sunlight left!" Exclaimed the short man, obviously intent on finding his prey before the sun set.
"Well then, let us observe that pair of tracks over there." The Indian stated, in a way that almost made it sound like a new idea.
"But we've already looked at those tracks, and they lead back here."
As the Indian observed the tracks, he paced back and forth along their path. After a few minutes of observation, he began to analyze the situation aloud.
"These tracks were left hours ago... they seem to be a man's tracks, running, by the looks of it."
"I. Know. That." Grunted the short man, gritting his teeth in frustration. "I told you that a man stole my wallet and ran through here several hours ago. Can you please help me find out where he went?"
"These tracks offer no insight, let us observe the other pair." Suggested the Indian, seemingly forgetting the fact that he had checked those tracks merely minutes before. The purple sky soon lightened, transitioning into a deep crimson and then into a vibrant orange, finally springing into a lively yellow.
"We must rest, my friend," offered the Indian, "I fear that the answers that you seek are not here, and it is getting late."
All the while, the bald man stood in shock.
posted by Dylan at 9:20 PM
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