Young Writers Society

Before beginning, readers should know that I have written this on a phone. The formatting is not of the best and autocorrect is a beast. I have proofread this as far as I can in that regard. This story is a test by me to see if I have atrophied or gained as a writer in my time of absence from YWS. Please feel free to critique and compare this to previous writings. I have omitted description of the trees and some other small matters as I want this to be a fast paced story without the possibility of continuation. This was written as a fun piece too.

Enjoy!

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Stretching myself over the ground, I soak in the scorching heat of the noon sun. The tall grass shooting towards the sky provides no shade, nor do I desire any.

Their bulbous roots provide a comfortingly prickly feel to my stomach, which I wriggle luxuriantly. Their blades, scorched brown in the relentless heat, tapered to pointy ends high above my eyes. My belly is full, and I am rewarding myself for a, in my view, wildly successful hunt.

I had just feasted the night before on a marvelous morsel of krait. The sight of its vivid yellow on black stripes spins in my head. Its venom had provided a sumptuous seasoning to its already delectable flesh, which taste like river rat, but with a more venomous tang.

True, this particular krait had put up a fight which I had not been taught to anticipate. If it wasn't for my strong body armour, from which I could never part painlessly, I probably would now be lying to rot where I now lie. I had stalked it for nights. Marking this specimen's favorite prey, I pumped a small mouse full of my venomous poison-which I had in full supply-, in a most ingenious manner. The mouse looked and behaved healthy, but should it be bitten carelessly, or even at all, my venom would rush into their mouths and kill instantly, or so I hoped, for I was new to this game of live or die, knowing all I do from instinct.

This trap I had released into the hunting ground of the krait. I only had to wait patiently for another night before its greed overcame its caution and it rushed for my trap. I was foolish and came out of my hiding place, which was a small depression in a rising mound of earth, at it just as its jaws began to cramp. I had overestimated the power of my own poison.

With desperate snaps of its jaws, coupled with its powerful wriggling, the krait succeeded in hitting me more than once. I retreated disgruntled at what I thought to be a failure of my poison to a safe distance and laid low for the reptile to perish. I feared a crippling injury. The beast soon met my expectation, screeching as its life seeped away. Rushing to it, I hungrily tore it open with my teeth, quickly ripping off and gulping down chunks of meat. In a few short minutes, my prey sank down my gullet toward my stomach, already digesting well. I had not the strength to move, and lay where I was, watching the night flee from the light of day. It was full noon before I had the strength to do anything, and all I did was wriggle on the grass.

I place my jaws on the earth. Something is not right. The ground feels as though a hundred hooves are pounding it into dust. I dart my head towards the grasstop, just enough to see through the thinning slits of grass growing high. I duct quickly back down and begin pushing myself fearfully towards a thick border of trees several hundred lengths towards my left. My desire for the sun falls to my liver as I rush for the relative safety of my forest home. I hope it is safe, at least. A large stampeding herd of cattle rushes towards me, I fear that I will not make it to the treeline before being trampled.

Adrenaline fires through my veins as my pounding heart work frantically to keep up with my sudden activity. I make it to the treeline and race through towards a thick pile of decaying leaves and twigs. I hope this cushion will soften any impact hooves will make on my scaly armour. I was just in comfortably, when the herd thundered abruptly to a halt just a step away from my rear end.

I breath a sigh of relief. For now I am safe, as long as I remain unseen. If I am, the cattle would go frantic in their excited panic and my great fear of death would be realized. I shut my eyes and slither my tongue repeatedly through my lips. My tongue tastes cattle. Cattle are everywhere. I clam my eyelids tighter in terror. Their mouths bring the sound of crunching nuts and forest fruits loudly to my ears, and I cringingly close my ear holes as tightly as I can. Every now and then, a prodding hoof would touch my skin. I pretend that I'm just a piece of wood, but still I am very scared.

It is dusk when I hear the sound of a cattle boy shouting to his herd. He brandishes a whip and leads off the cattle, who sulkily vacate their feeding ground to return whither they come from.

I heave uncomfortably when they are out of earshot. My body aches stiff as I clumsily roll side on side to help my blood regain circulation. I slither through the forest floor towards home, wringing my neck frequently to remove the stiffness. I find a tall tree towering towards the sky. It has no leaves at its top. Instead, it holds a long abandoned eagle's nest. It is a great hold of hay and mud, large enough to fit me comfortably. Ivy spirals round the tree as though the tree is some screw halfway turned into the earth. I stick my head over the lowest levels and slither slowly towards the top. Scratchy sounds are made every time my skin hits a knot in the climber.

I curl up and close my eyes, hoping to rest before my night's hunt, which I will start at the rising of the moon. My mind spins with my recent events, and I toss a squirm in the nest as I try to reconcile eating kraits with being stampeded by cattle. Neither of these animals willingly would come after me though, and I do not understand why I fear them so much. Indeed there are some animals that I fear. The eagle, which can swoop down from the unseen and snatch or kill almost anyone without the power of flight, and even many of those with, I fear enough to run at the sight of any of them.

Men who live in large communities, building for themselves stout holds of wood, or stone, or both. From them I would not run, for some would show great kindness to me, giving me food, water, and munificent affection. Others, though, are not so kind. If they were to see me, they would slaughter me without thought or trial. My greatest enemy though, are neither of these.

This forbidding doom I would flee at the merest scent of. They would rush, sometimes in packs, and sometimes alone, at me, snapping their jaws angrily as they did so. No amount of poison would do any good, for they are immune to it. I coul do nothing against packs but run. All I can do is raise myself menacingly and growl a hiss at them. When alone they slink away. Unfortunately only then, for I can do nothing but wound as many in a pack as I am able to before being butchered. There is no hope of a kind soul among these.

I wake suddenly from my restless rest. My tongue darts through the air, searching for the danger that wakes me. Mongoose. The danger rises sharp and shrill in my mind. My eyes rove suspiciously through the darkness, picking out many silhouettes. Trees frowning in gloom. Tree cats, ground cats, water cats. Cats of all types, eyes reflecting bright in the moonlight. Where are my mongoose? They show nothing of themselves. I huddle closer to the straw, hoping to mask my smell and sight from them. If I remain perfectly still, they might I away, for this was a pack of them I smell, and I have nowhere to run. I am just a thin layer under the grass when two glowing eyes peeks above the hay line. They are quickly joined by others. Threatening eyes swirl around my hiding place, and I hold my breath in fear. The whiffing of their nose tells me that my ploy might yet succeed, for now there are six of them crowding in the hay bundle.

They snivel among themselves in disappointment after several minutes of watchful hunting. Slowly, the head of the pack mournfully groans an order to leave the tree for other prey, and yet slower still the others follow. I wait anxiously until the last turns to leave, and then impatiently lifts my body slightly to ease a nerve. The movement causes the faintest of noises, which the wind carries betrayingly to the pack. They rush bacn up to the nest.

I see I have been found out. Drawing myself impressively, and straightening out my shoulders, I pull up my hood and growl menacingly at them. They snigger to themselves wickedly and bound in for the attack. Singling out their leader, I struck my head out, jaws snapping. I clam shut on his neck, as he raises a shrill cry of terror. His paws jerk at my face. I shut my jaws tighter. The other mongoose circle round and are now jawing away at my shoulders.

I jerk my body, my nerves screwing in pain as a part of me gives way to the mongoose. I feel blood rushing out of my wound in thick sprouts. I feel a cold dread dawn upon me. I will never survive this. The blood loss alone will kill me in a few minutes.

I feel a wrenching pain as my lower body is pulled apart by the raging hunger of my enemies. Drowziness clouds my mind. I have lost my heart. The mongoose I hold onto finally thuds to the straw, lifeless. I jerk onto my shoulders, screaming at the pain. Jumping as best as I can towards the nearest mongoose, my eyes run in slow motion towards this enemy. Her paws dart quickly into my eyes, and I feel the grass thump against my head. I see two mongoose fighting over what remains of my lower body. A claw descends into my eye, an I feel a sharp pang of pain as it drives it's way towards the center of my head.