Image courtesy of skreened.com

High fives all around.

You came, you saw, you conquered,

and now for lunch.

An interesting specimen, this –

Raw with gaping wounds

she quivers

and it makes you laugh

so, curious,

you poke her with a stick.

Maybe she’ll snarl

or cower

or

put on a show

and give you something to smirk about

on the long journey home.

But this time,

she stares back with blinkless eyes

and the only sign of pain

is the rapid intake of breath moving bloody carcass.

Disappointed, you poke again – with sharper stick –

but she smiles and it is not at you

and it disarms you

completely.

Enraged,

you unify to strike the fatal blow.

But the footsteps of

the Keeper

startle and alarm

and you skulk in the shadows to nurse your grudge.

There will be no funeral today –

unless you bury the hatchet.

There will be no dirge –

until you pay the Piper.

And owning no soul-tokens for either,

you pack for your ego trip

and leave.

High fives all around…