Chapter 7: The Hidden Threat
Catherine’s heart raced as the sound from the underbrush grew louder. The soft crackle of branches breaking underfoot, the shuffling of feet on dry leaves—it wasn’t the wind or an animal. Someone was out there. Someone who wasn’t supposed to be.
Her breath caught in her throat, and her eyes flicked back to the mother leopard. The big cat had stopped moving, her body poised, her attention now split between the cub and the movement in the trees. The tension in the air was thick, unbearable. The growl from the mother had faded, replaced by an eerie stillness. She was listening—waiting, just like Catherine.
The cub, unaware of the looming danger, had now fully raised its head, its ears twitching as it sensed the change in the atmosphere. It looked toward the trees, its small, confused eyes scanning the darkened forest, but it didn’t move. The mother leopard remained still, watching, her golden eyes never leaving the cub.
Catherine’s mind raced. She had to act, but every instinct told her that any sudden movement could provoke the mother. The leopard was dangerous, and even though Catherine had seen wild animals behave with surprising restraint, this was a mother on edge, protecting her young. And then there were the poachers.
Catherine swallowed, forcing her thoughts back to the immediate danger. The poachers. They had been in the area before, but now they were so close. She hadn’t heard anything about them recently—no reports, no warnings. The last thing she wanted was to lead them back to the cub. She knew what they would do.
Her mind snapped to the sounds in the woods. The footsteps were growing nearer, deliberate. It was no longer the random shuffle of someone lost or wandering. Someone was following a trail. Someone knew what they were after.
Catherine’s pulse hammered in her ears as she scanned the porch, searching for a way to draw attention away from the cub. Her eyes darted to the woods, and she saw them—figures moving between the trees, slow and methodical, as if they were stalking their prey. The sound of metal scraping against stone reached her ears, a low, unsettling noise.
She couldn’t stay hidden. She had to warn the rangers, but the poachers were too close now. She wasn’t sure how much time she had. The mother leopard’s eyes were shifting toward the trees as well, tracking the poachers’ movements. Her muscles coiled beneath her fur. The air between them was charged, the moment teetering on the edge of violence.
Catherine’s heart raced. The poachers were closing in, and there was no way to stop them.
She had to make a choice. Should she warn them, or should she try to lead them away from the cub and its mother?
Just as she was about to move, a sharp crack of a branch underfoot shattered the silence.
The mother leopard whipped around.
Something was coming for them. And it was closer than Catherine had thought.