It was a warm day in late October. The bright blue sky glared into the young adventurer's eyes, so he adjusted his wide brimmed baseball cap (he was wearing it backwards) as to make his walk more comfortable. Scrub oaks on both sides of the path were in the grips of late fall. Some had lost all of their leaves, while others (mostly in the shaded and well watered ravines) held onto their magnificent orange hues. The only hint of green in the whole landscape were short grasses growing up through the dry brush and oak debris.
He had been walking up the path for about an hour, slowly weaving his way through v shaped run offs and over ridge lines. Up and up he climbed, ever further from civilization. Suddenly, his small white dog went berserk and bolted into the bush. An explosion of growls, yelps, and snapping branches ensued. Startled by the situation, the man's other two dogs turned hilt and sprinted back down the path.
Heart pumping, a large stick lept into the man's hands just as a mountain lion, face dripping with blood from the man's fallen companion, made its appearance on the path. Knowing the difference between fighting a wild cat and a wild dog, the man wisely stood his ground. Unlike their more tame, house bound cousins, mountain lions are capable of emitting a magnificent roar. The deep, ethereal thunder was unlike anything the man had ever heard. It sounded like the beast's chest was hooked to an amplified PA system, whose speakers were hidden in the mountain.
Keeping eye contact, the man slowly started to back up. He just wanted to get out of the lion's domain and return to the city. Unfortunately for the man, the beast was hungry and had no intention of letting this oddly shaped deer escape. With lightning speed, the beast flashed through the dry air just as the man swung his makeshift weapon. Head contacted wood, and head won. The stick splintered into 1,000 pieces right before the lion's teeth sunk into the man's fleshy shoulder.
Hellbent on the idea of replicating someday, the man jabbed his thumb into the beast's eyeball. Blood from the two creatures mixed; only a forensic scientist could tell that they didn't originate from the same source. Startled by this oddly shaped deer's defense mechanism, and wholly unprepared to deal with it, the wounded mountain lion retreated back into the oak. It would die of brain infection one week later. The man on the other hand quickly passed out from blood loss; no one found him until morning. By that time, a pack of coyotes had eaten his flesh and muscles. His death contributed to the healthy birth of a litter of dogs, born 6 months later in the spring.
He had been walking up the path for about an hour, slowly weaving his way through v shaped run offs and over ridge lines. Up and up he climbed, ever further from civilization. Suddenly, his small white dog went berserk and bolted into the bush. An explosion of growls, yelps, and snapping branches ensued. Startled by the situation, the man's other two dogs turned hilt and sprinted back down the path.
Heart pumping, a large stick lept into the man's hands just as a mountain lion, face dripping with blood from the man's fallen companion, made its appearance on the path. Knowing the difference between fighting a wild cat and a wild dog, the man wisely stood his ground. Unlike their more tame, house bound cousins, mountain lions are capable of emitting a magnificent roar. The deep, ethereal thunder was unlike anything the man had ever heard. It sounded like the beast's chest was hooked to an amplified PA system, whose speakers were hidden in the mountain.
Keeping eye contact, the man slowly started to back up. He just wanted to get out of the lion's domain and return to the city. Unfortunately for the man, the beast was hungry and had no intention of letting this oddly shaped deer escape. With lightning speed, the beast flashed through the dry air just as the man swung his makeshift weapon. Head contacted wood, and head won. The stick splintered into 1,000 pieces right before the lion's teeth sunk into the man's fleshy shoulder.
Hellbent on the idea of replicating someday, the man jabbed his thumb into the beast's eyeball. Blood from the two creatures mixed; only a forensic scientist could tell that they didn't originate from the same source. Startled by this oddly shaped deer's defense mechanism, and wholly unprepared to deal with it, the wounded mountain lion retreated back into the oak. It would die of brain infection one week later. The man on the other hand quickly passed out from blood loss; no one found him until morning. By that time, a pack of coyotes had eaten his flesh and muscles. His death contributed to the healthy birth of a litter of dogs, born 6 months later in the spring.
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