He was in his natural habitat now, and he was loving it, this was where he could use all his predatory skills, and as he walked as silent as the still air, a mouse dared run out in front of him, but the mouse was no match for this cowering bruiser as in one swift move he had “clawed” him into his mouth, with claws bigger than any living animal, biting him in half, feeling the insides of the rodent pour over his tongue as he swallowed, his large tongue licked its lips, there was nothing to fear him in this part of the world, not man or beast. Not Lion or wolf, but the strength of one and the look of the other, the beast of Underwood walked the trees, his silky grey hair glistening where the sun dare shine through the trees, the sheer weight leaving inch deep footprints in the ground he stood upon, the trees seemed to want to take a step back as he walked amid them, the birds had long disappeared over the years as they made their escape through the movement of Underwood, those that had still remained alive that is, if those that had seen him and lived to tell, they would say the first thing they saw was the yellow and black eyes, wide and evil like a hornets nest, busy and watchful, then they would see the wolf like face with a long stout and ears that stood proud, then they would say they saw its teeth, it’s long yellow stained razor sharp teeth, but no one could live to say that, as those that had been unfortunate enough to see this magnificent schemer of the jungle, no longer lived to tell the tale.
