The Hunting

Neil and I had met after a long time. Almost eight years. But he looked all the same, except for the stubble that he had grown. We happened to meet on a warm Sunday morning on the path along the forest during my morning-walk. And like old times (whenever we did something together, it was never something normal) we decide to walk into the forest instead of along it.

About half an hour later we were deep inside the forest and had no idea where we were. And nor did we care. We were busy talking and catching up with each other's life.

But a sudden rustle nearby brought us back to the present. It was unlikely that it was somebody. Nobody came into these woods. It was 'something'!

We waited motionlessly to listen. There it was again. Definitely footsteps, but of what? Silently we moved in the direction of the sound, gathering all our courage. We walked into a clearing. The next time we heard the sound, it was closer.

I picked up a pebble and threw it in the direction of the sound. And the we heard a growl. A menacing hungry growl, that belonged to something that was definitely neither weak nor afraid. My immediate instinct was to run. But Neil held my hand. He was right, I thought. We could not outrun a predator.

"It's a hunting," whispered Neil. And then he walked right into the bushes from where the growl had come! I was confused what he was upto. But my suspense did not last long.

In a couple of minutes I heard the sound of a brawl, like a creature killing another. And in another couple of minutes, Neil was back. But he was on all fours, dragging a dead leopard with his mouth, his face and clothes bloody as could be. It was then I realize how much he resembled a wolf.