Discovery

The word whispered its way amongst the warm evening breezes as twilight settled across the grasslands. By the time the night had succumbed to early day, the solemn news had wound its way across the kingdom, curling and clawing through the air like a cloud of smog. The king had fallen.

   As the gloom of night lingered in the clouds - unrelenting in its battle against the morning light, I scurried through the grass, eyes darting suspiciously, awaiting the familiar rustling of danger. The king’s death meant more than the loss of a leader: it meant the loss of protection. The mere thought of the chaos that even now silently engulfed my home sent my small heart thudding wildly in my ribcage. My pace quickened as the early morning conflict of dark and light threw twisted shadows across the landscape, horrific monsters bending and arcing maliciously, waiting to strike. I could do nothing but dart through the gently swaying forest of grass as the white rays of the morning gleamed welcomingly, banishing shadows, but not my fear. I crawled my way through the endless jumble of olive and lime, ever swaying, wind slowly whispering of death and successors as the plants responded knowingly. Hunger suddenly gnawed at my insides as I continued my search, wide eyes still darting hopelessly. Then I saw him.

   The high grass – at least three times as tall as my meek frame - lay crushed and yellowing, lifeless, unmoving, stretched out beneath a vast expanse of fur. I gazed in mournful awe at the lifeless body of our fallen king. His golden pelt gleamed in the early sunlight, grand and regal against the earthly greens of the respectful grass. His great face lay still, eyes closed, wrapped in a dream from which he would never wake. He seemed the image of perfection in his never-ending slumber, great sunburnt mane and muscular form just as commanding as they had been in life. I stared intensely as the sun streaked across the sky, waiting for our mighty king to rise; but he never once moved.

   A distant screech of vultures tore me from my mournful sentry, and with a heavy heart I plucked a shining dragon fruit from beneath the lion’s dusty mane and scuttled home, as hungry talons clawed and ripped at once majestic flesh.

                                                                         Mountain Mayhem           

                                  Cousins                                                                                   Eroded Cat

                Let me show you where God lies, waiting.                                                     Antartic Canine.               

 Vast white too great in quantity; her eyes are glazed.

 Look! We've found the sun. Can you see it? Beautiful, isn't it?

 Pensive.

Learning to swim,

Learning to float,

If the ice caps melt,

We have to do both.