In void silence, she awaits caution.
Her physique and body print adapting to the surrounding.
She has taken the stance of a statue.
While her gold eyes navigate for prey.
Yet not even one animal at her grasp.
Timidly she waits for her last hope.
When explorers visit, they gasp around the vicious leaves, and seek to feel the texture of the bark of trees.
One! But an apprentice sought after the extraordinary.
His eye fell upon the white tusk that he presumed was stolen.
Diffusing out of the crowd of explores, he sets towards it.
In great awe he touched it…
She knew that there is one kind lacking immunity to her snare.
The kind that is only driven by lust and passion.
He opens the leaves to see beyond the tusk.
A beautiful death he sees staring at him.
She regurgitated the chyme to feed her young.