Prey

• Annika Goodman, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2022

The lioness' amber eyes watched for sudden movements as she stalked white stripes through the tall grass. Her shoulder muscles tensed as she carefully placed each paw forward, one by one. Her claws itched for the moment when she would dig them into the zebra’s hide. She anticipated the moment where she would sink her teeth into its neck, feeling the warm gush of blood in her mouth. But she waited, patiently, for the moment she would taste freshly spilt blood on her lips. The only problem with hunting was that she had to bide her time if she wanted a kill.
Her paw twitched; her hardened paw pad silently placed on the ground. Her steps had to be slow, silent and controlled, while her eyes remained on her prey at all times.
The zebra looked up, and the lioness stopped in her tracks, a sense of fear hanging in the air for a moment, the zebra looking ready to bolt. If she didn’t attack now, it would all be over.
And so, her back leg muscles tensed, she launched herself upwards in a leap, her face twisted into a silent growl. Her claws, outstretched, braced for impact. She landed on the back of her prey with a satisfying thump, then dug her claws into a panicked zebra’s hide, just as she had longed to do. She let out the growl she had been holding in, and then bit down hard on the back of the zebra’s neck, her teeth just missing the intended spot. With a dying effort, the zebra threw her off. She landed with a sharp pain on her back left leg and let out a snarl of defiance. The wounded, dying zebra staggered off to where her pride-mates were waiting. Soon, it would be time for a long-awaited meal, even if it had cost her an injured leg.
But she needed to make sacrifices in order to stay alive.