Once upon a time near the river by the woods...

Once upon a time, an afternoon near the river by the woods, a beast and a man crossed eachother's paths. The beast was heavy and swift. He had eaten many men and women and their children. He was no ordinary beast and he was so notorious that there was even a reward on his head. He had terrorized many a villages across the territories of many who used to call themselves kings but could not have had this maneater killed yet. 

 

The beast too, was a bit mad for beasts' standard, he would search for food at odd hours, and would vanish so quietly and skillfully that some even feared if he was a beast of some yet unknown or mythical kind. If a child vanished at night, everybody said it was the beast.

Now the beast had not had a nice meal since quite a few days. It was walking leisurely back into the woods after drinking from the river when he saw that man taking the road not taken and stopped, rrrrrrrrrrrrrrring softly. Neither the man moved moved nor the beast. 

 

Now this man too, was a bit mad for man's standards. He would sometimes leave his house and go around on a horse, stabbing men and taking their money, and sometimes their women too. His whole clan did the same. And like the beast, he too had terrorised many a villages across the territories of many kings who could not have had him killed yet. 

The man too was as notorious as the beast and there was a reward on his head also. However it was a little less than the beast for the beasts' skin was adored very dearly by many kings and their queens and concubines.

Well, so anyways, that afternoon near the river by the woods when a man and a beast crossed eachother's paths, and the beast could not resist the promise of some warm salty flesh, he rrrrrrrrrrrrrred again, a little louder this time turning towards the man who had moved only slightly. For a long time, the beast kept staring at the man. The beast would come very fast and there was no point trying to run away from it. If the man won the fight, and win he must, he would become a legend bigger than he was now, bigger than even the beast. If the beast devoured the man, even the beast's legend would outgrow its current status. Though the beast couldn't care less.

When the beast locked eyes with the man, he saw another beast. In fact they both were beasts but of very different kinds, yet both unkind and unflinching, little apprehensive of eachother's bestiality but very sure of their own.   When the beast jumped over the man, the man was ready. He was an uncouth man with dirty big nails and the reflexes of a beast itself. 

 

He poked his fingers in the beast's eyes and the beast moved back quickly, slightly blinded for a little while. The man got long deep scratches from the claws of the beast, first of its kind on his body. Angry, the beast roared like a thunder. The beast did not like to play games with men. He pounced again quickly. The man was quick to move, throwing dust and punching the beast's nose. This time the man was not hurt at all. And just as he began to bask in the glory of his bravado, the beast pounced again, grabbing the man, neck above, inside his mouth.

The beast won. Many a villages across the territories of many a kings would celebrate the death of that dacoit. The beast may or may not be actively pursued, if it could be contained within the woods, for it had now killed a very notorious man whose lonely carcass lay miserably at the shore. The wolves and the hyenas and the vultures shall compete for the remains. The beast was gone already, in the woods near the river, waiting for another man to take the road less traveled.  

 

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