Tigre Real: Awakening

The wet robe of the jungle close around the boulders, and in a moss-dappled hollow Godl lay in the embrace of a feline Orpheus, dreams of blood and heat swirling its blocky.  Massive paws twitched slightly, the tips of claws peeking momentarily out from under the leathery pads.  Godl followed the hunt, even in sleep.

Godl slept.  On a table-like slab of rough hewn rock deep in the Yucatan, the jaguar roamed far and away from the earth.  There was no hunger, here, in this dream.  Fat, emerald leaves brushed Godl on the shoulders, the voluptuous hands of the Moon Goddess caressing the spotted pelt.  Powerful muscles rippled and curled as the jaguar padded along a path through the undergrowth.  The wet air was dense with the sweet scents of flowers and the rough pungency of animals.  Of meat and blood.

A low grumble rattled in Godl's chest as another scent slipped almost imperceptibly into his nostrils.  It gave the creature pause.  He stopped, sides heaving, mouth opening in a half sneer as he drew deep breath in over his tongue.  It was there, again.  Not quite the raw smell of food on the hoof, but something deeper, muskier...familiar but as if through the filter of long absence.  A weak breeze came up and dispelled it.

Godl growled, louder this time.  A troop of black howler monkeys took offense.  They scampered off through the trees overhead, nervous and relieved to be away from the underworld in their midst.

Godl blinked with eyes that shone green-gold even in the deep shadows in between the burnished shafts of sunlight that stabbed down from the holes in the green canopy above.  The monkeys were trivia to the jaguar, to be caught and eaten as targets of opportunity.  Other, better meals were to be had.  Godl resumed walking down towards the stream at the bottom of the valley.  There, he would eat, he would drink.

The stream was a thin band of liquid mahogany, its oil-like surface a mercury mirror to the rampant growth crowding its banks.  Godl padded quietly to the bank, head turning from side to side to scan for crocodiles or capybaras.  Seeing none, he bent his massive head to the water and lapped it up in surprisingly delicate touches.  The tannins tightened on his tongue, but the cool water felt good as it travelled down his gullet.  He drank deep.

On his third mouthful, lifting his head to swallow, the scent he had smelled earlier returned.  This time it was much more powerful.  Earthy and with deep, musky undertones, it caught the jaguar by surprise.  He froze.  The water he swallowed hastily in order to open his jaw to better breathe in the scent.  As he did so, it was then that he saw the eyes in the undergrowth on the far bank.

Deep, large and lustrous gold flecked with jade.  They looked at him, unblinking.  He heard a low rumble, the eyes widened.  Godl felt his haunches tighten reflexively, as if about to spring.  The rumble got louder.  From overhead a flock of macaws that had been resting on a branch over the water burst into flight and screeching.  The sound startled Godl, and he let fly with a sudden roar.  He felt himself leaping forward towards the eyes.  They turned, vanished into the emerald earth with Godl landing on empty warmth among the leaves...

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On his slab of basalt, Godl jerked awake. The sound that roused him from his slumber was echoing away into the surrounding jungle.  Birds or monkeys or...something else, he could not tell.  Sitting up, the jaguar could feel his heart racing.  The scent from his dream was thick in his nostrils.  He recognized it now.

Godl was awake.  He was hungry, belly and loins tightening as he breathed.  Heat and life were out there, and he would find them.  Godl growled in satisfaction, stepping off the rock and into the hunt.