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Author Topic: Jaguar - A Very Short Story  (Read 798 times)

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Offline MedeiraTopic starter

Jaguar - A Very Short Story
« on: September 13, 2011, 04:42:03 PM »
Just a bit of revised free-writing sitting around in my documents from a couple of months ago.  :D

There was barely a whisper of sound beneath bare feet as the lone figure skirted over vines, ducked beneath branches and darted around any obstructions in her path. It had been a skill taught since she could walk, certainly not the only one, but one that was important to her very survival. To stalk like the jaguar, slither through the leaves and branches like the anaconda, silence was key. No unnecessary motion was expended in her gracefulness, her arms kept close to her body to fit through the smallest break in the vines. With absolutely no notice, her bare body skidded to an abrupt stop, her head ducking so that she was hidden behind an aphandra, the large palm covered in the remnants of fronds hacked off to be used by her very people. Nails dug into the fibrous bark to steady herself quickly, her head tilting to the side just enough so that she could peer around one of the lowered leaves.

One hand slipped from the trunk and to the sheath at her side, finger tips running over the familiarity of the texture of her lone article of clothing. It was braided from this same type of palm, a loving reminder of her grandfather. Just as the sharp blade inside reminded her of her duty to him and to her people. A shiver of anticipation or what could have even been deciphered as delight worked its way over her skin. The Shuar woman thumbed the hilt of the dagger before grasping it, fingers winding over the well used wooden handle to pull it smoothly from its home.

Normally she would have run a finger along the blade to check and double check the sharpness, but not this time. She would not allow the long dried toxic gel that partially coated  the blade to touch her own skin. The concoction made from the toxin of the poisonous dart frog and woorari was for the prey trampling through the jungle, closer and closer to where she lay in wait. The guero was with the group that had been trampling through her jungle for the last week, scientists and tourists that had been told where to walk and when do to it...but this one obviously did not follow directions very well. To her good luck, of course. She was the silent stalker and the calls that they heard in the night, beckoning them to their demise.

It was not her first hunt, as the tendril of blond hair trailing from her own dark locks indicated. It had been cut off while it had still been attached to live skin, the hairs silky, soft and oddly well cared for. The woman cared for her prized possessions, her spoils of battle. A sly smile slid across a darkened face, swirls of inky black and natural greens blending with her tanned skin, but her lips remained sealed so as not to give off the gleam of white teeth. A year, or perhaps even a month ago, she may have made the mistake of letting the subtle light pick out the lighter surface, but it was something she wouldn’t even consider now.

Crack! It echoed through the rain forest, but the sound wasn’t a result of her own movements. Her prey was steadily moving closer, the stumbling as thunderous to her ears as the snap of a caiman’s jaws and she, the predator laying in wait, was just as deadly. One, two, three, small silent breaths slipped from between her barely parted lips. Eyes closed for just a second for a silent flashback. All of the lessons that had created the hunger in her veins, the vengeance that flowed through her blood. They trampled through her forest, destroying the precious plants.

The footsteps moved closer.

It was a flash of movement of well honed muscles and focused intent. Out of the darkness, she pounced just like her arútam, her totem. The jaguar.