Short Story

The mist was as a blanket across the murky, damp forest ground. On the stump of a fallen tree sat the hunter, motionless. It had been nearly three hours since he had been tracking the beast and now, it lied in front of him ten or fifteen yards ahead, the mist made it hard to tell. He pulled an arrow from his quiver and nocked it,
   
   “This is it.” he faintly whispered to himself, “I will finally have my prize, and My father will be proud!”  he spoke louder this time, but still whispering to himself.

  As he released the arrow, the beast thrashed to its feet and whisked into the air, as the arrow pasted blindly underneath it. The beast pounded its wings against the mist of the forest, rising itself to the tops of the trees. The hunter watched in amazement as the beast gracefully flew out of sight.

     "One day" He thought, "One day, I will catch a Dragon!"