The Hunter's Pet: A Scifi Dystopian Romance

With a little cry of glee, Sarah ran into the bosom of the wild, leaping into the air and dashing from place to place, tearing through the undergrowth and swinging from branches. It was like being returned to the womb. Being in the wilds gave her a sense of belonging and connection which nothing in the city did. William was kind enough and confident enough not to be concerned by her exuberance, she knew he was somewhere behind her, out of sight but with a clear bead on her location.

He let her run herself out and eventually came upon her panting her glee in a sunny beam which filtered through an opening in the canopy, flooding the surrounding glade with beautiful life-giving radiation. Sarah stretched out in it, having removed her armor to feel the heat on her skin better. He frowned when he saw that.

“What did I tell you about wearing your armor?”

“You would put lead boots on a fish and tell it to swim,” she complained.

William's hands moved to his hips. He didn't say another word as she reluctantly donned her armor. True, it was less likely a wild cat would put its fangs through her belly whilst she was wearing it, but it was going to make her sweat and it was going to slow her down and she had every intention of convincing him to let her take it off soon.

“Let's start the hunt,” he said. “I think you've run yourself out for now.”

“If we're hunting birds, that means nothing but sitting and waiting until they land on the waters. You don't need me for that.”

“I don't need you,” he said. “I want you. Now come.”

She didn't know whether to be pleased that he wished her nearby or annoyed that he was so controlling. She settled on pleased as she followed him toward the lake which contained many brightly colored schools of fish which played in vast numbers along the rocky walls. It was not a natural formation, it was a crater from a great explosion which had taken place a very, very long time ago. So long that fish native to the lake had sprung up with feathered facial whiskers and bright orange and yellow hues. Sarah laid down alongside the bank and watched them swirl around one another, hunting little insects and larvae which spun gold and green in the warm water.

William was more alert, his weapon across his knees as he sat and waited with keen patience. Though he lacked the genes which tuned her in to nature more than other humans, William was an impressive predator. When he settled into his hunting mode he became still as death, his dark eyes focused on the spot where his prey would soon be. He barely moved at all, every muscle relaxed and yet completely ready to move with slow precision.

An unfortunate bird landed on the lake, sending ripples through the water, and making the fish scatter momentarily. Sarah watched quietly as William raised the gun in one smooth motion and discharged it with accuracy so great that the bird did not know its end was upon it until it was over. It fell to the side, listing in the water instantly dead.

“You want to get that for me, please?”

“Not wearing a hundred pounds of armor, I don't.”

“Take it off then, brat,” he said, swatting her ass.

She grinned, stripping off not just her armor, but her clothing as well. Slipping into the water naked as a nymph, she leisurely paddled out to the bird and brought it in, handling it with due reverence. Once on shore, she wrapped it in leaves and placed it carefully inside William's sack. He watched her with a fond sort of amusement. She knew he found her prey rituals strange, after all, what did it matter what happened to the animal once it was dead? Sarah had never been able to escape the feeling that the creature was still about in some form, returned to the wild from whence it came. Kindness to one's prey was kindness to oneself.

Still dripping, she sat next to William and put a wet hand on his knee. He raised a brow at her, but did not compel her to remove it. The rest of the hunt was peaceful, largely because no further fowl made landings. The afternoon's labors turned into lazing by the lake with nothing to do but make idle conversation and enjoy the bounty of the wilds.

“Well,” William eventually said. “I suppose we're going back with just the one bird.”

“That's not going to go very far.”

“No, but it will fetch a pretty price,” he winked at her. She still did not entirely understand how the animals he caught translated into riches, and she did not much care either. He was happy, which meant that things were good.