The Panther

The thick brush parted noiselessly for the velvet paws, rain from the leaves dampened the thick fur, and the fading light reflected in the golden eyes of the lithe shadow. The sun had made a brilliant sunset as it slipped below the edge of the clouds, tinting the undersides of their rain-heavy grayness with pink, purple, and gold. In the dimming light, the Prey had come out, sniffing the freshness of the air.
The grass stirred, and an inquisitive face peered through to look at the Hunter, its whiskered face displaying a mixture of the curiosity and bewilderment belonging to youth and inexperience.
“What are you doing back in here?” asked the newcomer.
“I am a panther. I’m hunting, of course.” answered the veteran.
“Can I be a panther too?”
“Look here, young Whipper-Snapper, you’re making so much noise, you’ll blow my cover. Besides, you’re white and gray; the Prey would see you a mile off. Why don’t you go play somewhere else.”
The young one sulked for a moment, watching the Panther assume a crouching position, eyes glued on the approaching prey.
“Can I watch, then? I want to see what this hunting stuff is all about.”
“I suppose.” said the Panther magnanimously.
The young one rustled back out of the hiding spot and sauntered a short distance away, and plunked down to clean his tail.
The Prey approached, plucked some raspberries from the bushes near the Panther’s hiding spot, and eyed the youngster. “You tagging along and pestering your big brother again, you big kitten?” queried the tall, two-legged creature, bending to pat him and tweak the twitching tail. “I suspect he’s around here somewhere.”
“Busted.” thought the Panther. “I knew he’d give me away. Time to break cover.”
As the Prey turned and walked back toward its dwelling, the Panther dashed through the bushes, rustling wet leaves, then out into the open. He quickly closed the distance between the Prey and himself, his goal within sight. The door opened, began to close, but the Panther dashed through at the last moment, and slithered around the Prey’s legs. Victory! He peeked out from under the coffee table, and, plying all his charm, purred as he wound himself around the two-legger’s feet. The human sighed and picked him up, a most undignified but pleasing thing, and scratched him behind the ears.
“Silly cat,” said the human. “Off with you!” She tossed him unceremoniously out the door and back into the damp night.
“Curses, foiled again.” thought the Panther, stalking down the driveway. “Perhaps I’ll find some moths to sport with; chewing on them may relieve me of some disappointment.”
The big kitten, twitching as though his shadow were goading and tickling him, bounded up alongside the Panther. “What happened in there? I didn’t dare follow.”
“Torture, unspeakable torture;” answered the Panther solemnly; “you’ve much to learn before you have courage enough for the Hunt.”