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© Sophie le Roux & Charlotte Seebeck.

By the end of hunting season she counts her pray: seven rabbits and one deer

 

Threaded one after another they all dry down to the same fuzzy flavour

 

The rabbits had never met a hunter in camouflage and volunteered to have their spines broken

 

 

The deer was too gentle to believe in traps

 

It nibbled the threads and dribbled on her nimble fingers

 

Undermined in her hunting authority she sets out east for wilder beasts

 

 

The fox shakes his ears at such profane manners and takes the bones home to its city burrow

 

They'll make savvy snacks for hibernation

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