The Yeti woke as the sun pierced through the clouds. It gave him hope; he cracked a smile as he got back up. He could feel that it could be soon that he might meet those like him. People who could end his imposed isolation.
He continued west; he climbed rocks and scaled cliff faces in search of his people. A difficult task as the wind belted his hide, but all trials and tribulations can be conquered. When he reached the top of the mountain, he raised his arms in triumph while he screamed out to the world. The world was massive to him, its clouds just hugging the mountains while the tips reached for the sky. Yet to him, that was his world. A beauty he wanted to share with others if he could. He dreamed of a day of taking his cubs to the top of that mountain to show them his world, to see the beauty that it held if they just took the time and looked.
A lie he believed, a lie he told himself. The world was made in a way to make such a dream impossible. But he believed! Which is that belief alone that kept him going for so long, even if it would never come true.
After a moment to themselves, he climbed back down in search of food. It didn’t take long till he found some Himachali Cherries, a good snack, and his personal favourite. When he took his fill he continued west, at times ducking down to hide from any human he saw or smelt.
Yet, regardless of his fears, he kept moving forward because he believed there was something out there for him. Something for him to make his dreams come true, he never wanted anything grand but something small. To be happy once again, to see his mother once more and show her how much he’d grown. He’d like to give her one last hug if he could.
Though that day would be different, like routine he ducked into a bank of snow to hide from a human. Yet he looked different, he carried an old bolt-action rifle with no scope. He was in search of game, but the yeti knew that there would be nothing of use high up in the mountains. Little did the yeti know, the hunter was looking for him.
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The hunter turned to face the yeti; he raised his rifle to his shoulder after taking one knee.
Bang!
A bullet flew past his head, panicked the yeti jumped out of the snow and bolted down the mountain. The man fired again; the yeti collapsed as a bullet grazed his leg.
He roared, but he knew he couldn’t stay down. He sprang back up and kept running down the mountain to be as far away from the human as he could while he left a trail of blood behind.
For hours he kept running, straight into a forest below. He collapsed from exhaustion; his leg was still badly injured. He licked the wound to prevent an infection, meanwhile, he tried to figure out a plan to escape the human or to find a safe place to hibernate.
However, in the end, he stopped. He could never understand why he was hurt, he never did anything wrong to them. He was just born only to wander the world alone and afraid. It hit him; the world was harsh to those like him. Uncaring, unloving, it wanted him dead. The world never wanted or cared about his search or isolation, it never did.
The yeti sat next to the tree, their legs tired from all the walking, their shoulders aching for the climbing. He sniffled; he wished his mum was there with him.
He blinked once, and a tear escaped from his eye. He folded his legs into himself, to pretend someone was there to comfort him.