The Sisterhood She Hunted
It’s a jungle out there, so she aligns herself with predators, believing they will provide protection.
She never believes the leopards will eat her face.
She’s on safari, chasing trophies with a price tag dangling from her own neck, unaware of the irony.
She never believes the leopards will eat her face.
Entering her hunting grounds, she spots lemurs joyfully leaping from tree to tree, knowing the females decide the troop’s movements. She brings them down one by one.
She never believes the leopards will eat her face.
She stumbles upon a pride of lions. She pauses to watch them guard the young together. Then she tears them apart, taking the strongest home as her prize.
She never believes the leopards will eat her face.
She approaches a herd of elephants and witnesses the elder female leading them to water. She gleefully takes down the matriarch.
She never believes the leopards will eat her face.
She bears the weight of her collection, dragging those magnificent creatures across the jungle floor behind her, leaving destruction in her wake.
She never believes the leopards will eat her face.
Nearing the end of her expedition, she hopes to return a valiant hero, eager to show off her sacrifices.
She never believes the leopards will eat her face.
But those leopards, they have always been solitary creatures. Sneaking around in the night, cleverly letting others do their dirty work.
She never believes the leopards will eat her face.
She believes they will laud her “accomplishments”, reward her with prestige and power, accept her as one of their own.
She never believes the leopards will eat her face.
But silly girl, she was always the sacrificial lamb. And those leopards? Their hunger is insatiable.
She never believes the leopards will eat her face.
And when they finally do, somehow she is still surprised.
Leopards always eat the faces that trust them.
