Predators Made Prey


Watching frum behind thick brush and pine, inna few bounds I could eat, but waiting. I turn the predators intuh prey as they tour the insides of what looks like a mountain grown tuh perfection with open crevices allowing meh tuh see clearly what I am stalking.

With thair strange gaits, upright and formal, I follow as they move thru the many layers: up slightly, tuh the left, tuh the left and disappearing fur a while, tuh the right, up slightly, up slightly, down slightly, down slightly, down a corridor, tuh the right intuh a dimly lit cave and disappearing fur a while, up slightly, up slightly, down slightly, down slightly, tuh the right, tuh the left, down a corridor, tuh the right intuh a brightly lit cave.

All this time I move, keeping the throats where I will place mah teeth in plain view. In the cave they sit vulnerable. They move little, sitting so stagnant, thair heart beats slowing, thair blood flowing steadily feeding the brain where the thoughts they have originate but only escape frum a few mouths at a time. I want tuh liberate the grip I keep on mah muscles, preventing meh frum leaping, bounding, devouring.

As I watch, I begin tuh understand them and hoe they let thair bodies fester in stillness and allow thair communication tuh do most of the moving. The blonde appeals to me like the sun when I am cold and since all others have darker fur I am hungry for what will hopefully satisfy most. I keep mah eyes on her and begin tuh release the tension in mah crouched body and start closing the distance between where I stalk with my stomach thundering from hunger, tuh where I soon will feed therefore quieting the storm.

The closer I get, the more mah mouth waters and excitement makes mah nose drip since they have yet tuh even look over. When I ready mah pounce, I raise mah head and suddenly I am facing another of mah kind. I roar and since they are mimicking mah every move, they do roar too, gathering the attention of mah prey as they all turn and look placidly at something thair long-haired pack leader gestures tuh.

With mah head low, I leave behind good meat; some with good bones, others with bad joints, some with sharp nails and others with dull, and all with blood I would have liked tuh get drunk on. They benefit under the protection of what seemed like a reflection of meh, but the part of meh that does not feed, choosing instead tuh protect like bears I’ve seen with thair cubs or deer with thair does or geese with thair ducklings.

Defeated, I follow the scent of the deer I smelled earlier, climbing up the tall mountain, almost tuh the top. As I enjoy mah feast on the solitary deer, the tang of fear spicy on mah tongue, I hear mah former prey communicating in the open as a herd, moving at a walking pace and then galloping down the mountain and fur a moment I think I can hear them talking about an encounter one of them had with mah mother.


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