Continuing the second draft where Leon continues to put distance between himself and the military of the South (Manila).
"He knew that God was with him: not even one vehicle passed him upon this road. If they were to pass, it spelled trouble. It would only mean one of two things: the military or bandits. He could see why neither would be here, this was worthless country [to them]. Neither side would find little to steal. If there were poor in the cities of the South, here they would only find peoples claiming the shirt upon their backs and little else.
At one point along the way, where a small stream met the road and broke its trail, he came across a family of wild tamaraw [dwarf buffalo] grazing along the embankments of the stream. This was their home. Home is where one is undisturbed. A place to graze for most of the year. Endless fresh water. The herd walked along with him, as if their own predilection was for the only man they had seen in many years. Occasionally they would purposefully walk into him, their warm hinds brushing softly into his. He stared at their large dark eyes and wondered what they thought of him. They certainly were not frightened.
And, when he would sit to rest, they would stop. The tamaraw were smaller than the massive caribou. They pulled their long horns through the talahib [a tall grass], which towered above them. Leon could make out their relationship to one another. They were a little family. Six all together. The cows watched over the youngest two. The bull did as he pleased, and the family followed him. It was the bull that followed Leon for two days.
The road varied constantly as it wound on. At night, he would seek the driest rise along the road to sleep, far from vegetation. It was the third night that the tamaraw continued their walk. Leon could sense from their motion that they whatever they sought with him had worn away.
That same night he spotted the pilandok (mouse-deer) running alongside the road. He barely made them out in the blue-grey light of early night. As they were rare, many thought them to be magical creatures, a cross between a rodent and a deer. [These are not the deer of the Western world, these could be held in one hand.] He had never eaten one, but rumors from the South have the meat as unparalleled. But here, without the tools to hunt well, he dug for roots. And, over days and weeks, he found, in the order of things, his body didn’t need as much as it used to. He was about as thin as he could ever get, strong yet wiry. He told himself that, if he had found a mirror, he would not recognize the wild man staring back at him. This was good. Leon Miap needed to be dead. But what am I now then?"
At one point along the way, where a small stream met the road and broke its trail, he came across a family of wild tamaraw [dwarf buffalo] grazing along the embankments of the stream. This was their home. Home is where one is undisturbed. A place to graze for most of the year. Endless fresh water. The herd walked along with him, as if their own predilection was for the only man they had seen in many years. Occasionally they would purposefully walk into him, their warm hinds brushing softly into his. He stared at their large dark eyes and wondered what they thought of him. They certainly were not frightened.
And, when he would sit to rest, they would stop. The tamaraw were smaller than the massive caribou. They pulled their long horns through the talahib [a tall grass], which towered above them. Leon could make out their relationship to one another. They were a little family. Six all together. The cows watched over the youngest two. The bull did as he pleased, and the family followed him. It was the bull that followed Leon for two days.
The road varied constantly as it wound on. At night, he would seek the driest rise along the road to sleep, far from vegetation. It was the third night that the tamaraw continued their walk. Leon could sense from their motion that they whatever they sought with him had worn away.
That same night he spotted the pilandok (mouse-deer) running alongside the road. He barely made them out in the blue-grey light of early night. As they were rare, many thought them to be magical creatures, a cross between a rodent and a deer. [These are not the deer of the Western world, these could be held in one hand.] He had never eaten one, but rumors from the South have the meat as unparalleled. But here, without the tools to hunt well, he dug for roots. And, over days and weeks, he found, in the order of things, his body didn’t need as much as it used to. He was about as thin as he could ever get, strong yet wiry. He told himself that, if he had found a mirror, he would not recognize the wild man staring back at him. This was good. Leon Miap needed to be dead. But what am I now then?"
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