This is my post on #freewriters2820 #dailyprompt i'm not prey hosted by @marinnewest's.
There were whispers in the forest, the crackle of twigs, the rustle of leaves, and the silent observation of invisible eyes. I knew the meaning of every bird call and the direction of every breeze because I had long since walked this path barefoot and confidently. However, today was different. Something unspoken was in the air.
A low growl rumbled in the distance. I paused.
Out from the shadows stepped the beast—muscles rippling, eyes gleaming with hunger. Its claws dug into the earth with every step, and its snarl curled like smoke in the air.
But I did not run.
The animal stared, confused. Prey runs. Prey trembles. Prey doesn’t meet its gaze like I did.
“I’m not prey,” I whispered, the words steady like a mountain in a storm.
I stood tall, rooted like the old iroko tree behind me. Fear wanted to wrap its fingers around my heart, but I clenched my fists and held my ground. My ancestors had walked this forest with their heads high. They hunted with honor, not fear. And I—child of hunters, child of warriors—would not be reduced to trembling meat in the face of danger.
The beast lunged, teeth bared. But before it reached me, I let out a cry—not of terror, but of defiance. My voice echoed across the trees, not as a scream, but a roar of my own. I grabbed a branch beside me and raised it like a spear. The beast halted.
Its eyes, once filled with hunger, now glinted with recognition. It saw not prey, but a challenger. A spirit unbroken.
Slowly, it backed away, step by step, until it melted back into the forest, vanishing like a bad dream at sunrise.
Silence returned, and so did the wind.
I exhaled, heart pounding but proud.
Some battles are not won with claws or teeth. Some are won with the fire that burns in your soul.
I am not prey.
I am the storm that prey runs from.