The corpse of my dear brother, Angel, lay below the willow tree, bleeding badly. The villagers had lost several children this year. Five young boys and two skinny girls.
I am a young boy. And my gut instincts say that there will be more deaths. And with the death of Angel, I do not know what psychic transformation came over me, with the loss of my greatest support, I can predict who dies next. My brother, actually, was the one who knew the cause of these deaths, and became a victim henceforth.
The boys of this village are robust and healthy. Girls were skinny.
My brother loved to have those boys. He gave me a fair share too. Till the village appointed the hunter, who shot us tigers down.
There will be more deaths. This time, I am the hunter's apprentice.