The Jaguar and Poacher



Spread across a strangler fig tree a sleeping jaguar stirred, licking his paw. The golden glow of the sun illuminated the vines that formed a bridge. Slowly the jaguar climbed down striding one long leg in front of the other, his paws hitting the forest floor, rattling tree ferns.

    From a distance he heard movement, and his muscles tightened. Before the death of his father, he warned that there were these strange creatures who took delight in hunting jaguars, invading their land.

    Careful not to make too much sound he stalked quietly, his pulse growing louder than his thoughts.

    “Well, well what do we have here” A man emerged from among the shrubs accompanied by a younger one. The young man with him backed away, his eyes widening at the sight of the jaguar. Jaguar growled clawing at the floor. Without a second thought the young man with him, retreated back into the bushes, but the poacher lowered his rifle, aiming at the jaguar. “Looks like this one will make a nice coat” He grinned. As his finger encircled the trigger, with sliver a courage the jaguar leapt, sinking his thick claws into the poacher’s shoulders, knocking him to the ground.

“This is my home!” the jaguar roared.





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