Wilson lived in the wild for a week. Never staying in a place for more than a day. The beasts of the forest seemed to hate him, constantly searching, or rather tracking him down. Or perhaps, they were just attracted by the sweet, sweet smell of cooked hyena flesh. It did not matter what kind of place he decided to seek shelter in, there would always be at least four different kinds of beasts coming after him, leaving him o choice but to be on the run. By the end of the week, he had changed locations twelve times, a maximum of four times in a day. Wilson sighed as he remembered the day he had to change locations four times in one day.
He had skinned, sliced and cooked the entire bull-sized hyena over a spit fire. He was tired after a good day's work and was ready to sleep when he heard some chattering that immediately reminded him of those heinous horned-monkeys. He shivered in frustration -not fright- and anger."Oh no! This monkeys again!" He felt like crying.*Ooh!
