He stood under the glistening night sky. Eyes closed and face raised toward the heavens, his lips were pursed causing the sides of his mouth to turn up. His breathing shifted between short fast breaths and extremely long exhalation through his nostrils. This went on for about a half hour.
Ogor was in an open plain known to have hyenas roaming around, he was aware of that but he did not care. No words could express his frustration. Ogor just gazed at the star studded sky seething. He bit his lower lips so hard to prevent a roar of rage, it began to bleed. He just licked his blood and continued biting his lip now with tears welling up in his eyes.
Ogor’s fists were clenched and he was trembling, he fell to his knees his lips giving way and he let out an earth shattering moan and began to sob bitterly. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks his bug eyes were now bloodied from crying and appeared as if they would burst out of their sockets. His fists lifted and began to pummel the ground beneath him as he let out a prolonged scream.
Ogor’s screams could be heard three villages away. Dark plains slowly began to light up from the furthest to the closest plain to Ogor. The last time such blood curdling screams were heard was when the Hyena hunting season was at its peak during drought, when the wilderness had nothing to offer and Hyenas drew closer to the human population.
Ogor’s head was now in the ground and as he lifted his head and looked yonder, he noticed the villages had come to life. He stood to his feet and bolted toward a distant plane away from these villages. He ran with a limp, his leg bleeding profusely through a tourniquet he had made from a banana fibre. His hands hung by his side, one drenched in blood bearing a golden dagger.
The closest village, Unotoi, had rallied its young warriors to run to the plain beyond the hills were Ogor had stood to find out what had befallen, what they thought was, a naive stranger unaware of the Hyena infested plains. To the warriors’ surprise they found a mutilated Hyena. They were dumbfounded; they had no idea who would have been bold enough to kill the creature. They wondered where the warrior who killed the beast was. And why he was in so much agony and failed to seek assistance in their village nearby.
The next village to arise from the night moans, was Namagog, where women wept and thrust themselves on the dust, the chief was found dead and drowned in his own blood. Slaughtered like a lamb, his golden dagger a symbol of his chieftancy was missing, and his heir was nowhere to be found.
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