The Horns of the Hunt

The horns of the hunt echoed across the snow
The air cold and crisp with its biting sting
Such is the path this winter does sow
But the chase was on, we felt not a thing

Ah ho! Ah ho! A hunting we go!
The horns! The horns! Our tales echo!

Aye, with patience we stalked our quarry
We laid in the deep snow at readiness
Kills decisive and quick, never we tarry
Our arrows loud in the emptiness

Through trees and brush, for buck and doe
The horns! The horns! Our tales echo!

The necessities are done to prepare and pack
We lift our horn so loud to blow
Work done we celebrate and travel back
For to our homes we the wearied go

Our horns lay tell of successful tow
The horns! The horns! Our tales echo!


Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie | First Line Friday: December 17, 2021

Our host Dylan provides the first line, we get to write whatever comes afterward. Length, genre, and structure are completely up to us. We are feel free to modify the line as we see fit, adding punctuation, quotes, or other bits if so desired.  Or for more of a challenge, change nothing.

The line for this week is: The horns of the hunt echoed across the snow.

2 thoughts on “The Horns of the Hunt

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