Naming Clay

Chapter Four

The grass whispered against Clay's shoulders and the leopard's ankles. There was an eerie lull in the night noises as they drew closer to the jungle. He trotted at the leopard's tail, which swung so close that it brushed his spine in rhythm with the leopard's strides, but never hard enough to knock him over. The big cat's scent was rich and meaty, with a hint of sage and something akin to smoke. Clay's own familial scent was weak and small in comparison, everything about him was. He watched the deft placement of the leopard's paws, claws half out, paw pads rough and scarred. It'd be so easy for the leopard to twist around and bat him a heavy killing blow.

But the leopard's gaze was fixed ahead as if he'd forgotten that Clay was there. Clay almost wished he had, maybe he could find a scorpion to sting the feline in his sleep...

The leopard glanced over the ridge of his shoulder, jaws loose and dangling, a slight smile on his muzzle. "Alright, back there?"

"Yes." Clay answered then took a moment to consider the question. His legs ached from the trek, weariness settled over his shoulders heavy as a melon, and his paws were numb from the cold. Fresh dew coated his fur in what felt like a thick layer of ice. "I'm cold." He amended.

When Clay looked up at the leopard he was dwarfed by a line of trees and snarling vegetation. The hooting and scuttling of unseen jungle inhabitants made Clay's fur prickle. "We're going in there?" He squeaked, a judder in his whiskers.

Another grin. "We're going up." The leopard pounced at him snatching him in his mouth. Clay went instinctively limp like a tiny pup being cradled in his mother's jaws.

I knew it! He's going to eat me! Why'd I go with the monster who mauled Quiet? His mind shrieked but he was too exhausted and defeated to struggle. What was the use? With one bite it'd all be over, and he'd be on his way down the leopard's gullet.

But the bite never came. The leopard's grip was firm but gentle. Clay swung in his jaws as the leopard turned back to the shadowy forest. He bunched his muscles and leapt into the nearest tree, clawing up the trunk and balancing on a thin branch that bowed under their weight. Clay risked cracking open his eyes and regretted it instantly.

The drop to the forest floor dappled in bluish hints of moonlight was far, far below. He was dangling right over a long drop. And the leopard's journey was far from over. The spotted cat gathered his haunches and leapt again, this time higher into another tree. He slunk from branch to branch with surprising speed, his paws seeming to find the best holds without thought as the leopard kept his chin up and Clay's body elevated. Clay wriggled as the leopard slithered through a clump of leaves into a patch of thick darkness. For the first time his muzzle dipped down. Clay gulped, there in a patch of starlight was the craggy bark of a sturdy tree limb. It was a least twenty meer tail spans away and lower than the branch they were on now.

Please don't drop me. Please don't drop me. Clay wondered if this was the sort of sick way leopards liked to kill prey smaller than themselves, haul it into trees and watch its skull crack on the roots below. Please don't drop me. Please don't-!

The leopard jumped. Clay's stomach swooped as they hurdled down, down-

They landed with a thump that made Clay retch. Claws curled into the bark, flaying it like a spider's web, the leopard pulled himself up and adjusted his hold on Clay as the meer gagged. Clay felt a sandy tongue scrape his spine and gagged harder. A muffled, raspy chuckle vibrated from the leopard's chest into Clay's back. The jungle air was still, unbothered by the wind, and the smells moist and stagnant. Clay wrinkled his snout and wiggled his toes, thinking that at least his paws weren't numb anymore. Warm, wet puffs from the leopard's big nose misted his snout and he sneezed.