The beautiful, basic chore of survival.

Through the dense canopy of the never-ending emerald carpet, a lone figure crouches; he peers through the dappled, silky, silver curtain of moonlight:
And the hunt begins.
The languid sheath of the black velvet night thick with midnight moisture swallows his vision. A sudden burst of light is the elusive moon peeping conspiratorially between the clouds like the eye of the ever watchful Gods ominously staring down from above. As he leers through the veil of moonlight into the darkness beyond, the inferno blazes into sight, fighting the inky blackness. The flames, like hostile hounds, lap at the bark; tendrils diverging around the wood like the eloquent gushing of a brook thrusting itself over the fluid contours of a rock.
He licks his lips, the heavy cloying air of the jungle comforts his raw senses as he yearns for more palatable things. His insatiable craving for the hunt drives him forward, past his apprehension and anxiety, ever closer to his unsuspecting prey. The sheer thought of a juicy, fibrous, sinewy and calloused heart sends him into a savage rage, yet he remains motionless – like an immovable statue.
Beyond the cacophony of the nocturnal animals all bustling about in their organised chaos is the sound of a river thundering through the undergrowth, like a vein pulsing through the body; it brings life to the jungle. He listens to it, feeling its magical charm and matching his breathing to it as he continually analyses himself, ever watchful of his instincts.
The coals crackle and glow like the heart of a dragon and draw long shadows that seem to be hiding something. She’s sitting facing the fire, the smoke burning her nostrils and eyes yet she insists upon staying as close to her little candle of hope as possible, like an island of light in the dark and dangerous ocean. She cowered on the moist soil, terrified of what sauntered through the shifting shadows. The pitifully vulnerable thing flinched and almost let out a scream as a flash of light ignited the air around her. The restraints came loose and her anger belted forward – like a mad stallion pulling its chariot astray and way off into an anger infused cycle of unstoppable destruction. She got to her feet shaking with furry as she struggled to regain her self-control and failed to recapture her renegade stallion. As she stood there fighting her invisible battle her beacon of home was extinguished by the heavens unleashing their torrential Armageddon, she hardly noticed. She had managed to regain some control when she was brought back to complete reality by an almighty, earthshattering roar from above. It carried so much power that it seemed to split the very air itself, turning the dark night into giant camera flash that dazed everything within the vicinity and then disappeared again without the slightest trace. She felt it rumble through her chest and echo up her throat as she growled right back; losing the rains permanently now. Taking a deep breath she allowed her new free spirit to wash through her consciousness like a ragging torrent washing away her old self. The torrent subsided and she felt raw, feral and dangerously alive.
Rivers of water cascade down his face and flow rhythmically from his pointed chin like tiny waterfalls made up of only the most perfect of raindrops. His glazed, spherical eyes fixed on her as she silently disappears into the outstretched arms of the jungle; embracing her like their own. She mingled with the tangled vines as elegantly as a serpent, pranced over deadwood as fluidly as a gazelle and flew through the air with the grace and confidence of a tigress. Each step swift and precise, without hesitance or fatigue. He follows her onwards through the vast expanse of greenery, now for the first time his confidence is corrupted by a tinge of doubt but as before his insatiable drive pushes him on.
She bounds through the forest – unwavering and steady in her footfalls which sinuously fade in with the organic chorus of the nature around her. She does not stop to rest. He redoubles his efforts – fuelled by the hunger for the chase – and inaudibly strides after her like the phantom of the forest. Shrubs, fallen / wounded trees and the thick undergrowth of nature fly past as he advances. He hears her lithe movements once again…but it is as soon gone – coming and going like the pulsing of his heart. Then the sound of her disappears, she disappears. He stumbles to a halt; exasperated. Seconds go by, then just when hope is lost, his core is ignited – the part of him that holds his pride and his need for success – and fuels the flames of his willpower which lick at his every intention to advance. A force of nature compelling him forward, unstoppable, destructive and bleak. Adrenaline consumes the fibres of his being, and a sharp clarity dawns upon him like shards of crystal in the clear, early morning light. Glancing across the embers of his existence …it is so simple. For there she sits. And for a brief moment he stares at her and the combustion of their reality and the truth they both subconsciously accept, arrives. He blinks and she is gone. Smelling the air he could taste her acrid aroma on his tongue; she wasn’t gone. He heard the gentle rustling of leaves as something lightly brushed against them, and hurtled his weight through the air toward the disturbance – even before the sound had reached his eardrum. His every sense on fire, his every muscle burning with the desire to finally end things as they stood.
He hit the ground with an amplified thud from another thunderous roar of the heavens and in that moment everything changed: the patch of ground where he was certain she should be held nothing but moulding leaves, fruits and twigs. Time froze as he stood there; a black silhouette in the darkness of his own consciousness. He is blinded by his false perception, and that one moment was enough to rip the hope from his soul – like casting away the light in the dark. The raw, gentle destruction of his pride left him in an utter daze, he struggled with himself and tried to fight of his most deadly enemy – a fate worse than death, like the blue of an inferno forever scathing, forever lasting but at this very second not enough to not ultimately burn out. Fear triumphs over hope as adrenaline pumps through his entire body, his yellow eyes glinting in the flash of light, the black hair on his back standing on end and in that moment – natures raw beauty – he felt helpless before his impending doom; like a birds shadow fleeting across a stark landscape. For a moment the hunter became the hunted…