Red

She jumped over the banches, being careful not to make too much noise. Her snout was wet and itched from the grass, gently grazing it. Her eyes and nose were one, together, working to be the ferocious predator she was meant to be. Her hands and feet are scattered across the ground looking for the hunter. Slowly, she got up and roared. She roared for her life, her soul, and her spirit. And she ran.