Hunters

Brinah’s hide is a patchwork quilt of sun and midnight. She dons patches of gleaming honey-sweet interspersed with eventide. Her steps strike against the stone as the jibita, and her rider, weave through rugged terrain of the lower mountains.

Cold lingers against the furs Trinh has wrapped around herself, and it seeps through the seams and presses against her skin. Her breaths are temporary clouds that dissipate quickly in the morning air. The world is quiet around them, as the nocturnal being to sleep and diurnal stir awake. A few bird songs tentatively call out to welcome the day.

It’s peaceful, yet the hair slowly prickles on the back of Trinh’s neck. Brinah stops and snorts. The mare’s ear prick forward, and her nostrils flare as she shifts from interest to fear. The mare steps backward, and Trinh can feel the jibita’s body tense.

“Shhh,” she tries to comfort her, but her own voice is nervous as her gaze searches their surroundings. She scans once then twice, knowing that something has caught her awareness but still not able to directly pinpoint it. It was when Brinah shied backwards that Trinh finally saw it. The same color as the stone and with a gaze of chipped ice, the mountain feline stared down at the pair from above. There are few feelings that come close to being watched by an apex predator, and Trinh feels chills shiver down her skin. The two evaluate each other for a moment. The cat holds them in her gaze for a few moments for silently disappearing back into the rock she’d come from.

Trinh releases the breath she was holding tight in her chest and urges Brinah forward. The mare is still nervous but trusts her rider’s wishes. When Trinh hears a faint clattering, she gives Brinah a more urgent command and the mare falls into quick canter as if she’d planning to do that anyways. Trinh didn’t want to meet the cat for a second time.