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Time: Late morning
Weather: Sunny with a few clouds and a brisk wind; choppy seas
Setting: The shoreline of a small Yoreiqi island covered in shrubby jungle with rocky shallows. The beaches are sandy, and there is an abundance of sea birds. The Port of Ainu is within an hour's paddling distance, and can be seen from the shore.
RATED M FOR SCENES OF ANIMAL DEATH, BLOOD AND VIOLENCE |
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The men stood in a circle in the shadow of the jungle. Their feet itched from the sand up to their ankles, legs and kilts still damp from bringing the canoe in. Flies buzzed as loud as the sea stirred, biting at their eyes and diving at their veins. The stench of death was prominent, the sand still red from the body beneath the green. A black-furred body lie on the blood-soaked ground, mouth wide open in a roar before death. Glazed eyes stared into the jungle darkness, a gaping hole in the throat of the corpse. Little ants crawled over curled claws, the sharp ends tipped with chunks of golden fur.
They had called the panther
Adyarango, "the great shadow". He had been a huge old cat, strong enough to swim from near Ainu and to the deserted shore. The beast lived there for three years, watching fishermen pass with silver-lined eyes. His back legs had grown stiff, and they'd seen him limp along, eating dead birds and fished that washed ashore. They never came close to the panther, for a sick cat was a dangerous cat and willing to take humans as easy prey. They figured Adyarango would die peacefully, curled up on a warm rock and drifting away in his sleep
No one had expected something to come and slay him. He was lord and master out here, was ten times the size of any ocelot or margay in the island's trees. His wounds were huge and jagged, hamstringing and made by something with a long snout and fangs. Wandering along the shore, they found patches of blood, ripped flora and gouged earth. Round were their eyes at the signs of violence, searching the deep prints and marks where each beast had pinned and slashed. One tree looked like the panther was forcibly dragged down from a few feet up.
Whatever the attacker was, they concluded, it was canine. Yoreiq had great cats, but great
dogs there were less of. Following the prints, they saw them lead off down a trail fitting of Adyarango's size. Blood painted a rock at the entrance, a messy print one of many near-lost in the undergrowth. The men considered moving down the trail, but there was fishing to do and gathering on the shore. With something huge and unknown in the forest and the seas starting to roughen, they didn't wish to tarry. They hurried away from the trees, but not before saying a quick blessing for the fallen panther.
On the other side of the island, something slash-marked emerged from the jungle. One amber, swollen eye squinted at the far shore, dark coat and jaws still stained with claret. In its huge mouth was a mangled oystercatcher, dangling at an odd angle with its long beak agape. The creature moved from the shadows and into the sun, coming to rest on the hot beach with a flop. Placing the bird between its front paws, the wolfish beast of gold and mahogany began to rip apart the fowl.
