thehunter

       Swish. Swish. The heavy boots slowly crush the swirls of dark green plants and fertile black soil as they make their way through the vibrant jungle with their missson to destroy. Infinite amounts of color engulf the the jungle; rich greens, purples, browns and blues contrast the screaming reds, oranges and yellows. The multitude of birds roar with their melodious songs; the mighty beasts grumble as they search for their next repas while smaller animals chit chat amongst themselves. As for the ever present and wonderous insects, they hum so incessantly in the background, it is almost like silence. This is the world the hunter has trapped himself in; the world where he will find his prize.
          His body is clothed in his own sweat, the tan cotton outfit is stuck to his body like his very own skin and the equipment hangs off his back like the world hangs off Atlas. He is caged in the heat and humity like many of the species he encounters are caged at the zoo. The hunter glances nonchalantly at a frog, so brightly colored it could easily be camaflouged in Vegas, who has landed on him, perhaps mistaking the hunter as a tree or some other benevolent being. The frog goes sailing through the air as the hunter flings him off. The hunter has no time and no patience for confused frogs. Demons within the hunter push him farther and farther into the jungle, closer to his prize. He must get it!
          Immodest flowers arrogantly show off their colors like beautiful male peacocks trying to impress their duller counter parts while a soft fury spider crafts its elegantly detailed web in hopes for some nutrious and tastey insect to become entangled. The hunter does not notice; the hunter does not care. He is after one thing and one thing only.
          A faint and familar roar slides through the vines that hang from the trees like green beads hanging through a doorway. The hunter pulls out a sharp and beautifully ornate knife and procedes to hack away at the vines drawing closer and closer to the roar which quickly becomes louder.
          WHOOSH! A cool breeze splashes the hunter as the majestic site unravels. Crystal clear water dives off the silky, moss covered rocks and belly flops into the wide, profound river. A rainbow colored bird screeches across the sky annoncing its presence.
          There! The hunter's eyes twinkle like stars. His prize slinks out gracefully and slowly begins to lick the refreshing river. The smooth black fur streaks against the soft orange fur of the mighty Tigress. Her brillant green eyes see all that surrounds her, the long handsome whiskers gently drip water from river while the tail coolly slithers to and fro narrowly missing the surface of the river. She is a magnificent creature, who, in a moment, will be magnificent palor decor.
         As he slips out the rifle that will bleed the life out of the Tigress, the hunter contemplates on how hard he worked for this, how long he had waited and how everyone had laughed. You'll never get a tiger, they mocked. You'll get eaten by mere insects, they teased. Ha! Were they surprised when he went to the jungle. Slowly, an evil smirk crept upon his face as he thought of their reactions to this beautiful beast. The hunter raised the gun and took aim. A loud shreek saturated the jungle. Suddenly, there was an eerie moment of silence where nothing stirred. Then, just as suddenly, life continued as per usual. Thick red blood oozed onto the ground as the geometrically colored snake laughed from his view on the dead branch.
        The tigress carelessly looked up, uninterested in what she saw, then elagantly swam into the river, to escape momentairly from the ever present as the sleek black panther devored the rare delicacy of human flesh covered with cloth. For in the jungle, the hunter and the hunted are always one and the same.