The golden lion flees direction astray, the king of the jungle runs from me; HE is MY prey. Naked and wild I run silently thru the tall grass. I hear heavy breathing, I am close at last. He li crouched down low, silent waiting for me to pass. The whistling of my blade had him turn at last. He snarls and roars but I crouch down low ready to jump in and tangle. Kill him, no, a creature wild who normally brings fright. I will fight him and win, letting him mark me, so others know what occurred on this fateful night. His claws swoop and I throw out my arm. I give out my mightiest yell, startled;
his intended death blow leaves three deep scratches in my arm. The blood gives him cause for bravery. I’m up in a flash and an arc of my blade mark him for life, like he has done me. Tired and wounded he flops down with gasp. We are now changed, can’t go back to the past. I’ve bested the beast who they say could not be slain. But why slay him when I can’t let him live with a mark knowing that at any moment a single woman can triumph over him, my mark is my trophy; his mark is his shame.
