"Dear God, thank you for this food and please bless the hands that made it. Amen!" said the squeaky voice of a twelve-year-old boy over a dinner table of bowed heads.

They all looked up seemingly at once and the familiar race of a family at a dinner table commenced. Cries of 'pass the sauce ' and 'I need a fork' passed over the table as the family settled down for the simple yet delicious dinner of spaghetti bolognaise.

"Dale, eat over your plate," the mother of the family spoke to her twelve year old son, who was trying to balance a mixture of mince sauce and noodles precariously over his lap.

"And then she slapped him!" yelled Trisha, finishing one of the long school stories that constantly came up around the table. Her twin brother Tristan laughed.

They were a happy family, living away from the troubles of everyday life on a small country farm just outside a minor city in Australia. It was a family of seven, with mother Judy and Father Ron, who strived to look after their five kids to the best of their abilities.

Seth was the eldest at fifteen. A stocky young fellow that loved his sport and exploring the wilderness. He did rather well at school, never failing a course and always making his parents proud.

Sister Raella was next, at thirteen and a half years old. She loved everything pretty and showed it. Her room was full of glitter and make-up and dresses. She despised the farm and almost every day complained it was ruining her dyed, straightened and regularly brushed blond hair.

The twins, Trisha and Tristan, the troublesome T's, were the youngest of the lot. Trisha was a hyper active ten year old who loved horses and books, always finding someway to get out even when grounded. Her brother was the tease of the family, constantly getting into trouble and messing up Raella's bedroom or steeling her make-up.

Then there was Dale. The middle sibling. At twelve he was a rather quite kid. He often went out by himself with his constantly present black digital camera, snapping random pictures of anything and everything that caught his interest, which he then posted on his bedroom wall. Every night he would stare at them with small pride swelling in his chest from his collection.

There were pictures of trees and bugs and frogs. Horses were a common one as he never ceased to be amazed by the constant attitude they possessed towards each other. The most prized photos however were the ones of his family. The one where Trisha made her first jump on her horse. The one where Seth managed to defeat his rival in the school cross-country. The one with his mum and dad, standing arm in arm as they smiled towards him. And every night he would look at the photos and smile.

"Dale!" cried Father Ron, trying to get his sons attention.

Dale looked up from his daydream, "Yes father?"

"I was asking if you got any more interesting photos on you're camera," he said.

The boy nodded quickly, "Oh yes. I was walking around today and saw a footprint of something I've never seen before."

He fished his camera from his bag and tapped it a few times to make sure it was working. He quickly flipped the small screen on the side to 'view photographs' and held it out for his family to see.

It was indeed a strange footprint. It resembled the shape of a crocodile foot, but instead of all four toes facing forward one seemed to stick out the back. It was settled deep into the ground, signifying a heavy creature. A puddle of water had even formed in the heel of the foot.

"It was fresh," stated Dale with an excited smile, "And the footprints were a set."

He flipped a few more pictures showing off the new interest around the farm. There was even a photo that he had taken of himself standing in the middle of the photo. The footprint was gigantic compared to the small form of Dale. The creature, whatever it was, could have easily stepped him flat. Ron frowned slightly.

"I'm going to go back tomorrow," said an excited Dale, "Try and see if I can spot this creature."

"Just be careful Dale," said Ron, "You don't know what it is."

"I will," he said with a smile.

With that Dale placed the camera carefully back in his bag, leaving it ready for the next day. The family continued their dinnerly conversation, quickly forgetting about Dale's strange creature and his plans for the next day.

Once they had finished dinner they did their nightly chores. The children started their homework and Seth had his daily shower. As the younger kids bedtime came around Dale made sure to be first. He pasted a photo of the footprints on his wall and tucked himself into bed.

He looked up at his photo-covered room, as he did every night. He placed his camera on his bedside table, keeping it standing upright. His iPhone was on charge and the laptop sat on his homework desk towards the other side of the room. He smiled, life was good.

* * *

The next day as the five siblings arrived back at their farm, piling off the large orange bus that was their transport, Dale was quick up the driveway. He dropped his bag at the front door and kicked off his shoes, not bothering with undoing the shoelaces. His ever-present camera was attached to a cord that wound up and around his neck, keeping it in place.

He raced to his room, quickly getting changed from his school uniform of a shirt and tie to the more suited farm clothes of a long-sleeved dirty coloured shirt and shorts that came down just below his knees. His clothes were slightly too large for the slim figure.

Once he was sure he had everything ready he slipped on his farm boots without much difficulty and set out. The farm was a rather large place, one of the larger farms of the area. It was also one of the greenest places of Australia that Dale knew about. During summer it was dry and the grass was brown, but once the first rain came it bloomed like a flower under the sun. Green flashed everywhere and the grass ran wild. The cattle that ruled the farm prospered in the winter, for even if it was cold the grass was full of rich green nutrients that caused them to grow fat quickly.

Dale made his way towards a small river the snaked its way down through the farm and towards the ocean. It was more a stream then a river, mostly dried besides the times when the rain came, and even then it was shallow enough to wade through. It was also accompanied by a line of trees that followed it down to the sea. He suspected the land used to be a forest but was then cut down for farming purposes.

He slipped under the electric fence that guarded the river from curious cattle, not bothering about avoiding touching the fence. He knew which wires were electric and which were not.

As he entered the realm of the river he began to move more slowly. The grass here was nearly knee high, for lack of cattle to eat it down, and seemed a popular home for snakes. He didn't expect to see one because it was still winter, but it never hurt to be careful.

He crossed the river along a fallen down tree that was there before he arrived at the farm, about two years ago. He kept his balance easily along it, keeping his arms out wide and stepping carefully along the trunk. He leapt the last metre to the other side. It was covered in an array of ferns that was even more precarious then the long grass, very different from the other side of the river.

There was a small path that scrambled its way through the ferns. Probably an old track the cattle used when they were allowed into the river. He followed the track for about five minutes, dodging over the occasional rabbit hole that blocked his path and snapping pictures of random interests that showed up now and again.

As he arrived to his destination he took time to gaze around. He picked out a tree that seemed high enough to observe without disturbing the creature and safe enough if he was spotted. He quickly scrambled up it. He always loved climbing trees and found them easy to scale if one knew where and when to place you're feet.

Dale pulled himself up onto the last branch that was able to hold his weight. The creature hadn't arrived yet but he was determined to wait until it came, or for the next hour. If there was one thing young Dale excelled at it was patience.

So he lay back into the main trunk, legs sprawled on either side, and fished a snack bar out of his pocket. He opened the wrapper and bit down with a crunch, savouring the sweet taste. He smiled and closed his eyes for a second before gazing down towards the spot where the creature had been, and waited.