When it was morning, the yeti continued moving through the forest. Their head slumped down; their right arm wrapped around them to give themselves a vague reminder of what an embrace was like.

  He did his best to avoid the hunter. They covered their tracks by using a brush to cover the footprints he left behind. He chewed leaves and stuck them to the wound to stop the bleeding. The yeti did everything they could from what they remembered their mother taught them.

  As the wind blew behind him, he could smell the human. He turned around and saw them on the hill staring directly at them, their rifle, their intent clear to the young yeti. The yeti ran in a random direction till they found themselves in a cave.

  It wasn’t just any cave; he knew which one it was. It was the same cave his mother hid him in. He also knew there were no other exits or places for him to hide, he couldn’t fit in the small cracks anymore. So, he was left with only one option, to fight their pursuer.

  The yeti climbed to the roof of the cave and waited. He never thought he would do this, to fight back against those who wronged him. Deep down he couldn’t understand what they felt at that moment. Rage? Fear? Confusion? He couldn’t comprehend what those emotions were for they were mixed into a cocktail of misery.

  When the hunter entered the cave, he jumped down on top of them. He knocked their rifle away and gave a mighty roar. The human crawled back, though never turning away from their prey. The yeti wanted to know why. Why did he hurt him, his mother, his people, anything?! He wanted to speak their language to scream his pain at them; he wanted to know what he did wrong.

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  The hunter got off the ground; the yeti replied by slashing their chest, knocking him down again and leaving a gash on their vest. He gave the hunter another pained roar for he wanted the hunter to know what it was like to be truly alone, to call for a mate that never came. He wanted to share his pain so the hunter could understand, not despise him.

  But communication was impossible, he knew it. But there was one way to show the hunter. The yeti approached the hunter again, that time to finish them off. To kill a nightmare that terrorised his dreams, to enact revenge on a creature that slowly took over his home. The hunter needed to die, he deserved to die!

  Bang!

  He stopped, the yeti looked down to see their stomach bleeding. Pain rushed through him for he couldn’t understand what happened, or why he deserved it. He stumbled and fell onto their back. Tears rushed down his cheeks while he lay there, he felt he achieved nothing in their life. He never made a friend, found a mate, or remembered what their mother looked like anymore. Perhaps, to him, it was a fitting end. He wanted to share the world, but the world didn’t want to share that love with him.

  The hunter approached the yeti with a smoking revolver. The human looked young, not old enough to hunt on their own. But behind those human eyes, the yeti could tell that the human looked regretful, that it was wrong to shoot something that was defenceless and didn’t deserve such treatment.

  As the human raised the gun to their head, the yeti had a question. He wondered if given a chance. If he and the human could be friends if the world was different. If the world was far more loving.