By R. J. Byrd
The young cheetah loped through the plains at twilight. She was hungry. She hadn’t caught anything in over a week. The temperature was dropping, bringing relief to the arid savannah. She surveyed the flat land hoping a stray gazelle might be wandering around. No such luck. She trekked over to the water hole and lapped up the refreshing water. She would sleep for a few hours; try hunting again at night.
She needed to make a kill. She found a tree close to the water and low to the ground to climb up on. She settled on one of the large branches and stretched out. A cool breeze swept across the desert, and the cheetah lifted her head and sniffed, trying to get a whiff of anything to eat. Still nothing. She settled her head in her paws and licked her lips; her eyes began to droop.
A flicker of color caught her attention.
Her eyes opened. A beautiful multi-colored butterfly was floating a few inches from her nose. Eager to hunt something, the cheetah’s muscles tensed. Her tail flicked back and forth, her shoulders moved up and down in a fluid motion, and her claws sank into the tree bark. Her body held a lazy readiness. The cheetah’s backside lifted slightly. The butterfly was flittering away.
She sprang off the branch; legs outstretched, claws straining forward, and landed on the insect. A cloud of dust billowed out from under her, and she waited for it to settle before examining her kill. Keeping her paws over it, she sniffed. Nothing. She moved her paws only to find the ground beneath them empty. She looked up just in time to see the colorful butterfly glide away.
Defeated and still very hungry she hopped back onto the tree branch. She closed her eyes and let sleep overtake her as darkness spread across the land, bringing with it new hope for the hunt.
Copyright 2023 by R.J. Byrd All Rights Reserved
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