Ryan Barrett
Stories (1/0)
12:03 AM
Start 12:03 AM. This is a predator. Something is watching, and stalking just outside view. Long, fingered leaves blot the otherwise unobstructed Moon, and high grass provides exquisite concealment. For this prey is observant, and only perfect camouflage will allow success in the hunt. A slight wisp in breathing or twitch of an ear could alert the whole land, and expose cover. But this hunter is perfect. Thousands upon thousands of generations have lived all nine lives, just for the instance of now. Coiled legs and thorn-sharp eyes, a cat in the night is unrivaled as the pinnacle of creation. The apex of the garden, this cat is untempted by the millions of senses tripping every wire of perception. In the far corner behind, next to the largest fencepost, a frog bathes in groundwater. At the base of the house rainpipe, two mice reach to sip the collected moisture, then scurry back around the corner and underground. Upstairs, the family dogs toss legs in dreamful speed. The local barn owl, second only to feline majesty at nocturnal excellence, turns head one way, and then another. A single wingbeat is all even the cat hears, as the mutually respected entity seeks fulfilment in the night. But none of these matter, for the prize is dead ahead. The cat has observed such a figure for days now, always careful to gather times of rising, yet never to tip-off the ultimate end: a clash, in which the child of tigers would surely triumph! Invisible, the air breathes over such a vast garden. A leaf slips hold from some branch far above, twirling, dancing, toward the grassy audience ever nearing. Expecting and confident, one paw times with the pale-green setdown, and the cat is closer to apex. It is only a matter of waiting, and with prowess of every lord from deserts to jungles, this feline warrior has time. A crack! The moment is arrived! A tail lashes without sound. One pounce, and claws will meet their prey. Yet even a creature so magnificent must be careful, for though a battle is to be won, a precision strike would best serve to end the struggle quickly, or else the target can still fight. There! Arising from a den of noir, the Backyard Beast rears a head as if to subjugate the garden. Defense of home and honor flaring, the pride of evolution holds no longer: the cat charges! Fiendish hissing strikes back like lightning, but Garden Guardian is unphased. Launching a tackle on the monster, it holds fast, spitting cold fury to retaliate! In a heartbeat rebound, the feline warrior hits low. Fangs glance off dark armor, but leveraged hindclaws rip at the crackling intruder! Frigid moisture spurts from the head- the only side not shielded by thick, slippery hide. The victim spins, reaching narrow body higher still. At once, the long, rounded enemy blasts the cat with icy mist! The last chance is here. A jaguar, diving into the river, a single bound must kill the prey! Legs dug in place, shoulders hoisting, sharp jaws rip one final time! Snap! Rock-hard skin broken, the fighting monster skids and falls limp. Freezing water gushing from the den where it had lie, the warrior cat growls in triumphant notice for all to hear, and witness. Nature has borne the cardinal virtue of excellence, and lives to stalk the garden once more.
By Ryan Barrett3 years ago in Petlife