An Epilogue To Odysseus In Homer's Odyssey

I stole across the moonlit grove, knife in my hand. Gravel shifted beneath my feet. I fingered a bumpy, round bolt in my left hand. Nix readied his sword, his shield raised to cover his head. The blind Seer crunched on his apple, the sweet liquid dripping onto his ragged garments. My mouth watered. The last time I had eaten was 5 hours ago. I stepped off of the silence of my rock onto the cacophony of the misshapen pebbles.
Odysseus called out in a loud voice. “Old one! Give us yon Shard, and we shall leave you in peace. We hath given you the apple and hath struck down yon harpies. Now hold your part of the bargain, or we shall strike you down, like so many of our foes!” He replied “Give me a second. I have waited 300 years for this apple. You will not deprive me of this prize, or are all of your Ithacans so foolish as to threaten me?” Odysseus twisted his hand a jabbed the cool night air twice.

I waited while my fellow Wanderers searched him. A band of New Ithacans watched us. “Scram! This is a routine check for dangerous materials.” I whispered again as they wandered away. “Tell us where it is, or I swear to Zeus I will sever your head from your shoulders.” He motioned to a tree approximately 15 meters away. “Up...the...tree,” he gurgled. I let up on the pressure from the knife. I shambled with him to the tree. The remaining members followed, Telemachus dragging behind. When our nails were ragged from scratching and climbing the tree, and our hands tired from gripping the rough bark, the man hobbled away to his chair and table. He grabbed a knife from under the table, and he threw. For a blind man, it was a superb throw. It hit a shield and bounced off. I grabbed it from off of the ground, and gave chase. I ran through the green boughs, slapping my face like whips. I hurtled over the roots, arms reaching to trip me. I stopped, and heard someone breathing raggedly. I held my breath, and peered