Prompt: What happens when two different animals cross paths?
This Weeks Writes
Cliff
Immanuel
Marielle
Victor
Byran
Mike
CLiFF
The difference between a cross that paths and an animal that walks across said path is that there isn’t one. What happens is that the animals cross to get somewhere, they've got somewhere to be and yet nowhere to go at the same time. An animal or cannibal maybe both, they just want to cross man.
Immanuel
Hung over the green metal bin was a fuzzy gray lump with a striped tail that swung left and right like a poofy metronome. Ricky looked up at the sun slowly dipping into the orange juice sky and then back onto the rummaging rodent so obviously out of place against the peeling green and brown patina. It was too early and this thing was breaking the simple unspoken rules of rodentia. Ricky puffed up his little lungs and squeaked with the authority of a mildly larger rat.
The creature stopped.
Marielle
On a solid rock, hidden in a sea of evergreen, the fox allowed himself to bathe in the moonlight. There weren’t any other animals that occupied the area, and he liked the silence that way. It was better than being in a pack, where the thoughts of the individual were flooded by the collective. However, there was a loneliness to the whole experience. How long had it been since the fox had talked to someone else that wasn’t just the expanse of the sky? How long had he seen the smile of a companion?
The fox pressed his snout to the niche of the rock. No matter. At least it can enjoy the hush of the night, and the world wouldn’t bat an eye to whether the creature felt lonely or had someone to sit beside to.
“Is there a room for another?”
The fox looked over at the source of the voice. A red-bushed squirrel had its head popped out from the side of the stone, its beady eyes watching the creature intently.
“If not, then that’s fine,” he said. “I can look elsewhere.”
“No.” The fox shook his head and gave a weak yip to the squirrel. “I’ve room for another, don’t worry.”
“Good.” The squirrel climbed up. “I’m glad to have another friend on a night like this.”
“Your name?”
“Adam.”
“Ah.” The fox looked back up at the bright sky. For an animal to have a name such as that, Adam must’ve been a prior pet before making a home in the forest. “Twig.”
“Twig?” Adam cocked his head at him.
The fox snorted. “Yes, my name is Twig.”
The squirrel sat next to him, not passing a glance. “Well then, Twig, I’m glad to be enjoying this with you. It’s such a beautiful time to be out.”
It was. The world was like a spectacle in how the lights twinkled, in how they stretched throughout the inky black of the heavens without a second thought of the spectators below. It made Twig want to reach out with a paw and to capture the stars before they died out.
“You don’t have stars like this in the city,” Adam mused.
“Oh?”
“I mean, they’re still there,” he said. Adam lifted a claw to one of the constellations, dragging it through like he was connecting them. “But the artificial lights make them disappear unless you squint. I’ve a hard time just finding the bowl of the big dipper or the aquila.”
“You’re once a city dweller,” Twig mumbled, although it felt more of a confirmation than a question directed to the other. “Of course they wouldn’t give you a show such as this.”
Adam chuckled. “No doubt. I’ve never had someone to watch the stars with me, so I’m glad you’ve accepted my company.”
“And you’ve the voice of a city dweller too.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you know more than I do about what they’re called,” Twig explained. “I didn’t know the star sets had names, I only called them by my own.”
“Oh?” The squirrel finally gazed up at him. The curiosity was there, and what Twig perceived to be opportunity. “Mind if I teach you, Twig?”
Twig didn’t have to respond for the furry creature to get off the makeshift platform and, after a few minutes, brought back a small twig, directing it to the dark like a teacher. Adam’s fuzzy face gleamed with joy. There was a brightness to it that Twig couldn’t help but get jealous over, but with it came the realization over the dynamic and how he listened intently to the other.
The prey was relaxed next to their natural predator. There wasn’t a fear of being hurt or maimed, and it didn’t feel odd to hear the squirrel educate him from a world the fox had never visited before. There was a comfort in knowing that they both wanted to watch the moon through the pine and birch. The night wasn’t lonely anymore.
Victor
animals
“After you.” The honeyguide gestured at the door, fanning out her little wing.
“Go ‘head.” Said the civet.
Bryan
I see them running on the concrete. They think the darkness hides them but the moonlight is enough for me to see the contrast of the grey concrete against their dark bodies. I watch them from uptop the fence. Usually the cats rest here during the day but for the possum it’s our place at night. This person’s backyard has a trash can that was dumped over and I am now watching the cockroaches gorge themselves with food. No dogs live here making it easy to feast here. The cockroaches are my favorite snack. People think it’s their trash we want but it’s the maggots, cockroaches, and spiders we love eating. I move down. I crawl towards the trashcan.
Squeak Squeak
I hear a nose from somewhere. I think it’s coming from the wall.
Squeak Squeak
“Large rat! Large rat! You’re a laaarrrrge rat!”
A rodent had started to chant at me. It was sitting against the wall
Mike
Two animals cross a path
Do they befriend or befoe
Are they strangers or are they know
Two animals cross a path
Will they pass
Will they chat
Will they do combat
Two animals cross a path
What they do is not know
But how it starts is know
We know there start
But not the end
It all comes down
To the middle action