Orenda

Again — where does inspiration come from? Here’s another example.

This time I’m using a prompt-service (#vss365) which provides a daily word to build a story around. In this case, each paragraph is a separate ‘tweet’ (on Twitter) that I’ve built into a near 300-word tale.

Johnny Red Legs crept through the crags to his hide. He needed to learn what was killing his sheep and this moonless night was perfect for the task. The Vietnam vet set up his sight looking down the valley using an old Starlight scope. Soon he saw an orenda-like figure.

The 72-year-old man laid still as the thing moved closer. The brightness of stars in the clear skies made the movement of the odd being startling. Soon Red Legs became aware that ‘orenda‘ might not be the correct description of what he was witnessing. It was too human.

(But…)

As the pale-being drew closer, he could tell it wasn’t at all human. At a certain point the old Marine sniper no longer cared whether it should be considered ‘orenda‘ or not. He touched the trigger of his thirty-aught-six and in-between breaths and heartbeats, squeezed.

Orenda or not, the figure twisted and fell, dropping out of sight. He heard the echo of his rifle’s shot roll down the valley where it was met by the harsh howl of a coyote. Red Legs stayed hidden until sun-rise, and only then did he venture out to see what he’d shot.

It was far more than orenda, Red Legs realized. The pasty, white sheen of empty skin, now hardened like dried paint, was a creation of evil. Then he remembered how Coyote had howled at it’s death, and he knew that his valley was home to an ancient and evil changeling.

“You are speaking of Yee Naaldlooshii,” the medicine woman said, “Navajo, not Paiute or Shoshone. I have never heard of such an orenda this far north.”

She paused, looking to the distant mountains, “Bring me that skin, Johnny and we will rid Hungry Valley of this evil.”