Re: Hunt
She was a cheerleader. Her life was supposed to be boys and going to school, the slam of locker doors, kissing underneath the bleachers, kissing behind the bleachers, kissing wherever she wanted it. It was supposed to be friends and texting, sleep overs, going to games to cheer for the quarterback that wanted to take her home that night.
It was not sitting in the grass with a long clawed tiger, swiping at her, but there she was. There the tiger was, and there were the claws, extended bone-yellow and slicing through the material of her uniform to rake over her belly. The pain was not immediate, it took the span of sharply inhaled breath for it to come ramming into her and then she gasped, her hands immediately covering the wound. Now her heart was beating drumbeat fast, hopping to a four four measure.
That goddamn -- her eyes lifted to meet his and then she was screaming, roaring at him as he might at her, her hands balled up into fists as she reached out to strike him. "Go away! Go away!"