Jane Jago’s Drabbles – Four Hundred and Sixty-Five

He waits on a high branch in the forest with every nerve on alert. The young are hungry and if he cannot find food they will have to move on. Again.

The woodland falls silent, as prey approaches. He synchronises his breathing with the pulses of the earth. As the creature comes level he gives voice to the earsplitting shriek that is the primary weapon of his kind. 

Horse rears and bolts, leaving he who rode so lazily in a heap on the loam. 

Ninja mouse cuts his purse and returns home bearing bread and cheese enough for a week.

©️jj 2020

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