Vines tangled over rocky ground in a dense thicket on the Ganga's edge, their thorny coils snagging at boots as noon sun poured through gaps in the canopy. Deer tracks traced faint lines in the soil, weaving past gnarled roots and scattered stones, and the river's rush roared loud nearby, its churning water a steady hum beneath the rustle of leaves. A haze of dust hung in the air, kicked up by footsteps, and the thicket buzzed with the faint drone of insects, their wings glinting where light broke through. The heat pressed down, heavy and still, the ground crunching under every move.
Duryodhana strode ahead, his dark tunic snagging on thorns as he pushed through, his small boots scuffing the dirt. He pointed at a deer trail, his forced grin tight and sharp, his dark curls bouncing as he waved the Pandavas forward. Beaters trailed behind him, their spears gripped loose, their tunics patched and dusty, their steps quiet as they fanned out. Bhima lumbered beside Yudhishthira, his broad frame brushing vines aside, his vest flapping open, his dark curls damp with sweat. Arjuna followed, his bow slung over his shoulder, his tunic rippling as he scanned the thicket, his dark eyes narrow. Nakula and Sahadeva stuck close, their small tunics snagging, their fair and dark heads tilting as they watched the trail.
Duryodhana's voice slid out, sly and quick as he pointed again, his grin flashing. "Track 'em, boys! Deer's close. Meat for the taking!" He stepped aside, his small hands brushing his tunic, and his dark eyes glinted, his breath held as he glanced at the beaters.
Bhima's voice rumbled, gruff and loud as he cracked his knuckles, his broad shoulders shifting. "Meat? I'll grab it! Lead on, little prince!" He grinned, his teeth flashing, and shoved a vine away, his sandals crunching the soil, his big frame eager.
Yudhishthira's voice came steady and low, his patched tunic swaying as he stepped forward, his dark hair tied back. "Close, maybe. Keep your eyes open, Bhima. Something's off." He tilted his head, his calm gaze flicking to Duryodhana, and his hands rested at his sides, his caution quiet but firm.
Arjuna's bow tapped his shoulder, his voice crisp and sharp as he nodded, his small frame buzzing. "Off? Always with him. I'm watching, Yudhishthira. Let's move!" He slipped past a root, his dark eyes darting, and his tunic settled, his vigilance a steady hum.
Duryodhana's grin widened, his voice smooth and teasing as he waved them deeper, his tunic snagging again. "Move, then! Deer won't wait. Go on!" He stepped back, his small hands signaling the beaters, and his dark curls bounced, his sly glee curling beneath the words.
The thicket tightened, vines pressing in, and the deer trail veered toward a rocky dip, its edges hidden by brush. Duryodhana lingered at the rear, his voice low and hissing as he muttered to a beater, his small frame tense. "Now. Drive 'em out. Die in there, go on." He crossed his arms, his dark tunic blending with the shadows, and his grin faded, his breath sharp.
A roar erupted from the dip, soil exploding as beaters jabbed spears into a hidden pit, driving a herd of boars up. Their tusks gleamed, long and curved, their bristled hides crashing through the brush as they charged, their squeals piercing the air. Bhima's voice boomed, gruff and fierce as he barreled forward, his broad hands flexing. "Boars? Your trick, Duryodhana! Watch this!" He grabbed the lead boar by the neck, its tusks slashing, and twisted hard, snapping its spine with a crack, the beast dropping limp.
Arjuna's voice rang, sharp and quick as he leapt for a tree, his small hands gripping a branch. "Left! Clear now, move!" He swung up, his bow drawn, and loosed an arrow, pinning a second boar through the flank, its squeal cutting off as it fell. He nocked another, his dark eyes scanning, and fired again, the third boar collapsing mid-charge, his tunic rippling as he shouted.
Yudhishthira ducked a tusk, his voice steady and loud as he grabbed Nakula's arm, his patched tunic tearing. "Stay back, both of you! Follow Arjuna!" He pulled Sahadeva too, his dark hair swaying, and his calm held, guiding them through the chaos, his hands firm.
Nakula's voice rose, soft and quick as he stumbled back, his fair curls bouncing. "Boars! He's mad!" He pressed against Sahadeva, his small tunic snagging, and his wide eyes flicked to Bhima, his breath fast.
Sahadeva's voice followed, quiet and sharp as he ducked low, his dark hair falling forward. "Mad, yes! Keep moving, Nakula!" He gripped his brother's hand, his small frame steady, and they darted left, following Arjuna's call, their steps quick.
Bhima's laugh rolled out, loud and wild as he shoved another boar aside, his broad arm swinging. "Mad? Scared, more like! Come on, pigs!" He grabbed a tusk, wrenching the beast down, and his dark curls shook, his strength surging, a gift from the nagas roaring through him.
Duryodhana's voice hissed, low and bitter as he watched from the thicket's edge, his small fists clenching. "Scared? You should be dead! All of you!" He kicked a stone, his dark tunic snagged and torn, and his grin vanished, his spite twisting as the boars scattered.
Arjuna's voice cut through, crisp and clear as he dropped from the tree, his bow steady. "Dead? Not today! Right, Yudhishthira, go!" He fired one last arrow, pinning a fleeing boar, and landed light, his small hands quick, his dark eyes flashing as he waved them on.
Yudhishthira's voice stayed steady, his hands guiding the twins as he moved, his tunic ripped. "Right it is. Out now, all of us!" He stepped over a fallen boar, his dark hair loose, and his calm led them past the pit, his footing sure.
Bhima's voice boomed, gruff and bold as he dusted his hands, his broad frame towering. "Out? I could take more! Little prince's trick's done!" He laughed again, his vest flapping, and he kicked a boar's flank, his dark curls bouncing, his triumph a roar in the thicket.
The herd scattered, their squeals fading into the vines, and the Pandavas emerged on the far side, dust clinging to their tunics, their breaths heavy but steady. Duryodhana stood alone, his voice fierce and low as he glared, his small boots rooted. "Done? Not yet. You'll see." He turned, his dark tunic a blur, and stormed off, the beaters trailing, their spears dragging, the river's rush mocking his failure.
Arjuna slung his bow, his voice sharp and bright as he wiped his brow, his small frame buzzing. "See? He's got nothing! Good eyes, eh, Bhima?" He grinned, his dark eyes glinting, and he clapped Yudhishthira's shoulder, his vigilance a shield around them.
Bhima's grin widened, his voice loud and gruff as he cracked his knuckles, his broad hands muddy. "Good eyes, good fists! We're too much for him!" He laughed, deep and wild, and his dark curls shook, his strength a wall unbroken.
Yudhishthira's voice came steady and low, his hands brushing his torn tunic, his dark hair swaying. "Too much, yes. But he'll try again. Stay close, all of you." He glanced back at the thicket, his calm eyes narrowing, and his caution lingered, a quiet thread in their triumph.
Nakula's voice softened, warm and quick as he dusted his hands, his fair curls bouncing. "Close? Always! That was wild!" He nudged Sahadeva, his small tunic creased, and his grin flashed, his relief bright.
Sahadeva's voice followed, quiet and firm as he nodded, his dark hair settling. "Wild, true. We're fine, though. Together." He squeezed Nakula's arm, his small frame steady, and his steady gaze met Kunti's sons, their bond holding firm.
The thicket stood still, vines swaying faintly, and the Ganga's rush filled the air, its roar a backdrop to their survival. Bhima kicked a stone, his voice gruff and bold as he turned, his broad frame leading. "Together! Let's go, then. He's licking wounds now!" He strode off, his laugh echoing, and the Pandavas followed, their steps a united thud, the trap a failed grave deepening their clash.