Savanna

The metal spade patted down hard against the sun cracked earth, the rivers of sweat drowning his clothes. As he looked down toward the newly made grave he saw his reflection. His black hair now grey, framing a tortured expression filled with memories of his daughter. His once youthful smile greeted hers everyday. Everyday wouldn't happen any more. Her tiny pale hand had laid there isolated and alone only seen by the passing moon, until he came upon it. He wept, but no tears came. He had died inside that day, and now he had dethroned and buried the beast that had killed her.