The Prey

         The wind was soft on his golden fur, rippling across his back, his neck, and around his ears. The soft sounds of the branches and the leaves rustling were all he could hear. There was no sound of a fellow animal, a friend, a threat. It was tranquil, yet lonely standing there under the tree on the edge of the clearing.

         He had crossed the line this time, his independence blinding him from reason. Lost from his herd, he wandered into the jungle a bit to find shade and protection from hungry eyes. They told him not to go far, but he didn't listen. Now he was in the hands of fate until he could hopefully be reunited with his friends and family.

         Every crackle and twist of a branch sends shivers down his back, aches through his legs telling him to run. His ears are sharply alert, his heart racing. He has never been in the jungle, which was forbidden to go alone in. He had no choice, now. Without protection from his herd, he would've been a free meal in the open plain. He was fast at running, born to be, but he still had youth and inexperience. At least in the jungle he could hide, or so that is what he thought.

         His hooves ease themselves softly across the ground, avoiding anything that might bring attention to him. Puddles of water, dew, and other organic liquids litter the jungle floor, creating streams that flow around the flowers and the less beautiful vegetation. It is almost overwhelming, this place so new to his senses. The sights are hypnotizing, the smells immobilizing.

         The world seems to awaken around him in a festival of death. The air is thick with the smell of decay, of rotten flesh. The sounds of flies and vultures fill his ears, drowning the thoughts of hope and freedom from this prison of darkness and creeping vines. The vultures grow louder, a warning of some king or queen to command the dead. Without his herd, the fear of being the talk of such a frenzy is all too real now.

         The sounds die out around him; the reaper is growing closer; he has been sensed. His hair stands on end, his body trembling with absolute fear now. His mind wanders endlessly, preventing any thought of hiding. All he can do is run now; all he can do is hope to run fast enough.

         A quick rest he takes, hoping the shade of the tree hides his golden fur in the dark forest. His hooves are sore, his legs hurting. But in life, there is no true rest, and he can hear as the predator grows closer. His eyes catch hold of her waiting, her own eyes glowing with such hunger and terror that he finds it hard to get back to his feet.

         In a flash she strikes, his own body already prepared. Muscles ripple through his body, his form dancing in the shade as he escapes her claws. He is free, running over death and fear towards the clearing. His heart beats faster, free from concern but strained from the danger.

         There! There in the clearing is his herd. In no time he is united again, their heads welcoming him back with soft nudging. There is no time for a true reuniting; with danger close, the herd moves on, this day just a memory in the past even for the prey. He understands the unity of the herd, this bond that provides life to its members. Another day he will face the huntress, many days will he be hunted, but strength in numbers reassures him there is still hope in life.