Moonspear what's up danger

He closed in the distance between them steadily, a jaguar in dense jungle leaves. Whatever had piqued her interest lied on the fringes of that lake, something yet that he could not see. Lake water permeated his senses; the damp earth and frail reeds were overpowering in their bloom and spread. There was more than that too, but discredited almost as fast as they crossed his senses.

Through a parting in such a scene he saw her once again, framed perfectly. It was only an instant as she continued, her body dipping low towards the incline. He closed in to mirror her and curious, but aware of why she was there now—the hunt. Waterfowl were not his specialty, but they were a delicacy all the same and he too, could not pass up the opportunity. He stepped where she had been only a minute before, pushing the dampness of the air out as he minded the slick mud and tangle of roots where the forest pushed in on the bank.

And then he saw the bird just past her through the mess of watery stalks.