The Cat Story . . . . chapter 4

,.-~*’¨¯¨’*·~-.¸-(_ The Great _)-,.-~*’¨¯¨’*·~-.¸
,.-~*’¨¯¨’*·~-.¸-(_ Cat War _)-,.-~*’¨¯¨’*·~-.¸
,.-~*’¨¯¨’*·~-.¸-(_ Chapter 4 _)-,.-~*’¨¯¨’*·~-.¸

There’s a subconscious sensation a jaguar feels when it’s leg is clenched in the vice-like teeth of another animal. It’s not a feeling of pain or fear. It’s more an innate feeling of rage that pours out into every neuron of a jaguar’s body, fueling their thoughts and reactions to dig deeper into their well of wild fury, helping to unleash a blinding torrid of teeth and claws at the attacker.

To a lesser degree the same can be said when a leopard is backed into a corner, against it’s resting tree, caged. Whereas the jaguar may have brute force and power, the leopard is afforded with quickness and stamina. Each attack and counter erupts with the precision of a surgeon’s scalpel, fast and deadly. Often times, only resorting to a toe-to-toe battle if there is no other way out of a situation, the vice-like bite of a leopard is often only a distraction for the chaotic whirl of claws to quickly follow.

For the most part, although intensely powerful and cunning, the bulky Timber Wolf is a wild card. Each rip and tear felt on it’s hulking body often times goes unnoticed. Every contusion or wound inflicted on its body seems to numb its sense of physical feeling, only to fill that void with a sense of peace. Knowing that each attack on their body, opens the assailant up for another wolf to strike, and a different wolf to claw, and yet another member of the pack to bite.

Shielding the once resting leopards from the vengeful glare of Ghosse’s eyes, Bodolf shifted his body side to side, mirroring Ghosse’s furious pace back and forth. The stately Timber Wolf knew that he needed to put himself between the weakened leopards and this rage-filled attacker. “Let it go, Ghosse. Rest it off. Think about it. No one needs to get hurt more than what’s already happened.”

“Save it, Bodolf. Get out of my way, or you’ll be a part of the fight!” Ghosse’s voice was short and shrill, behind it you could sense a swelling primal anger.

Intensifying the situation even more, the once resting leopards started emulating Ghosse’s caged pace. Growling and gnashing their teeth as if preparing them, the leopards were wide awake, to say the least. The aches and pains, from the night before, seemed to vanish from their thoughts in an adrenaline-induced drunkenness. Even Hydel’s once terror-filled eyes seemed to flash a newfound sense of rage.

Having no clear opening to quickly pounce the leopards, Ghosse, impatient and impetuous, launched himself anyway. True to form, Bodolf intercepted the powerful cat once more. When the two tumbled to the ground, Migrawl and Terawr jumped into the altercation with Hydel quickly following. Between the dust, the mud, and the fur the riotous melee seemed to be an endless assault of teeth and claws.

Having witnessed her mate, outnumbered and ganged up on by the Timber Wolf and the leopard trio, Skellah added herself to the scrum with a thunderous roar. Not quite as impressive, but adding an eerie, haunting tone to the jaguar mother’s war cry, Jerakyl’s roar seemed to echo against the resting tree while the little jaguar flung himself into the fray.

“Here we go again. Next time, bring an extra WK Hour Glass of Moxie!”, Felan sighed as she bounded down from her WK Fallen Log and bolted toward the leopard’s resting tree. Once she arrived at the free-for-all, she quickly surveyed the confusing mass of twisted bodies, sorting out Bodolf’s position. She noticed the young leopard and jaguar had singled themselves clear from the adults. Their little claws, scratching and fighting each other, seemed to resemble play fighting more than anything meaning serious harm. Seizing an opportunity, she clenched her powerful muzzle on Migrawl’s tail, attempting to pull the feuding leopard out of the brawl. Within seconds, she was quickly sucked into the pandemonium.

Canagan, watching the whole scene unfurl, cautiously inched closer to the skirmish. The ferocity at which the grown wolves and cats attacked each other seared a frightful image into the back of the little Timber Wolf’s mind. Noticing that the young leopard and jaguar were emulating the parent’s actions, the little wolf rushed towards the cats to try to separate them. “Little ones shouldn’t be fighting!” the little wolf cried, As a result of the little wolf’s bravery, it received nicks and inadvertent scratches, collateral damage for trying to help.

With a sharp, “Yelp!”, Canagan was knocked backwards against a large WK Hollow Log close to the water’s edge. Then, as if snapped back to reality from a dreamy nightmare, the little wolf looked around and noticed something peeking out from the weeds next to the log. With a gleeful shout, “My Toy I found you I will love you and hug you and carry you with me!”

All the fear, terror, and anxiety that the little wolf was feeling at that moment was completely washed away at the sight of that WK Stuffy Pig. Quickly overtaken with pure bliss, Canagan pounced the overstuffed toy. The squeaking sound of the pig getting pawed at and bit into added a light-hearted overtone to the war that was still waging a few feet away.

The WK Stuffy Pig’s playful squeaks seemed to grow louder and louder until every jaguar, leopard, and wolf stopped mid-battle. With dumbfounded looks on each face, the combatants watched as the scratched, battered little Timber Wolf playfully attacked the loud toy. As if a light switch had been flicked, the heavy, foreboding tone of the melee instantaneously shifted to a light-hearted almost comical jaunt. Witnessing the pure power of play, it only took one attacker’s muffled chuckle to ignite a wildfire of contagious laughter between the warring factions.

It was in that moment that an unspoken cease fire ended this battle in The Great Cat War. The universal wisdom of laughter and play, often times afforded by only the young or the ‘crazy’, trumped that of power, anger, and pride in the world of Wild Kajaera.

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