Jungle Book

It came out of the woods. I saw him and opened my arms. I walked forward assuredly.

We were siblings (because I'm not a sexist.)

We go foraging for huckleberries. We might even find a Finn. Their tangy sweetness pervades through our mouth, palpitating our tastebuds. I wince. He laughs.

He beckons me forward (screw political correctness.) I follow on twos. Water glistens below the orange sky. It bends; it curves; it meanders. It drives forward, and clashing against the rock, creates white ripples amidst the flow.

He walks right in. We're carnivores now. A smack! A splash! Out flies a trout.

He teaches. I fail. His patience holds until the technique passes to me. I've learned to fish.

We lie on the ground staring into the starry sky. There's Ursa Major and Ursa Minor. He roars.

One, two, three, four... one thousand, one thousand and one, one thousand...

The sun rises and blinds my eyes. I shake his paw, and we say our goodbyes. I head back into the jungle.