|Source: Feral hogs|
Nat was not ashamed of his family or of his herd. He had been born into the community of feral hogs, been nurtured, and now was expected to learn the ways of the hunt.
Being a runt had not been easy, but Nat bore up to the digs, the snorting derision. But, this revealed to Nat even more that he was not meant to be a raging boar with deadly tusks.
It was out on another foray for food, which involved destruction of some field or roots that a thought occurred to Nat. He was eager to share it with the sow mother who was already nursing the next generation of wild feral hogs.
He grunted a few times, and his mother looked at him. She rolled her small hog eyes, shook off the piglets from her teats, and guided Nat to a secluded part of the mud roll. When Nat began to share his desires for a different life, she grunted and squealed quietly.
“Don’t you ever say those things again! Especially to your father!” Then she turned tail and waddled off in a huff.
But Nat could not help himself. He confronted his father, who was the Alpha Boar of the herd. He grunted quietly. “Pa, I don’t want to be a feral hog. I want…”
But that was as far as Nat got. His pa lit into him with every profane squeal he knew, which was quite impressive. Then Pa knocked and rolled Nat with his huge tusks, slashing Nat’s hind quarters. Nat took off, knowing that he was forever banned.
Where to go was the question. Nat raised his snout to sense the air. West. He would go West.