The water of the creek smells clean, like something that has trickled out of the water table and onto leaf litter. I lap it with my tongue, tasting with care, then drink to slake my thirst. I hear thunder rattle through the mountain pass, and lift my head to sniff the air.
Scent of saltpeter –
Humans chasing their quarry.
Danger stalks these woods.
This was written for Colleen Chesebro’s Tanka Tuesday #124 – Game and Trouble. Synonyms are in bold!