Thanks to BWarren for setting the Sunday Whirl every week.
You can check it all out here:
https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2020/02/23/wordle-444/ It was a fine line between child and man, but the need for food had him design his own weapon to hunt at a young age despite being green behind the gills.
That was long ago and now he was Chief.
How he used to relish the chase, his enemies bearing the trace of his bite should they try to steal from him.
He’d growl ‘The kill is mine.’ and after his fill, would lace his fingers and toss the carcass to his underlings.
Those days were gone and his meals were brought to him on platters. It wasn’t the same, and his spear hung dormant on the wall.
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