Once under the small falls, he swam underwater to the center of the river and allowed it to sweep him farther downstream. He didn’t want to leave tracks or scent for the hunter after he’d taken such careful precautions to keep Rachael safe. It was a risk leaving her in the chamber injured as she was. She had the weapons and light and food for several days, but still she could easily panic being underground. They were arboreal, preferring the high branches of the trees to the ground.

Rio spent many hours lying perfectly still, backup for his men. The others entered the camps to retrieve the victims. He remained outside from some vantage point, a marksman few could surpass, the last line of defense for his unit. He was used to the solitary life, living alone the way he did and carrying out his job, but unlike the leopard, his species were not meant to be alone. They mated for life and beyond. Rachael was certain to have a difficult time alone.

He exited the water a mile downstream from the waterfall, shifting into his animal form, happy to feel the full strength and power of his kind. He lifted his muzzle and scented the wind. At once he was flooded with information. He stretched languidly before springing easily over a fallen trunk. Dawn was beginning to break in the forest.

The thick, haunting mist shrouding the forest began to lift, slowly evaporating as the warmth of the sun penetrated the clouds. A chorus of birds began, each trying to outdo the other as the strange music rang through the trees. The range went from melodious to harsh, even tuneless, as they all called to one another flitting from branch to branch. A burst of colors as birds took to wing signaled morning in the forest. Gibbons joined in, claiming territory with gurgling cries and whooping yells.

The leopard ignored the noisy flapping and whooshing of birds with great wings as he leapt into the lower branches of a nearby tree to make use of the overhead highway. The forest had stirred to life and Rio utilized the noisy chatter, hurrying through the trees back toward his home in the hopes of picking up the scent of the hunter. Rio made his way quickly back upriver, listening for calls of warning or sudden silences that would indicate an intruder was stalking through the territory of the pigtailed macaque. Timid and shy, the macaque would often leap to the forest floor and run when disturbed, another sign of trouble.

It was the barking of the deer that alerted him first. The short, harsh calls were used to warn members of the herd among the trees as tail flipping couldn’t be seen through the heavy shrubbery and thick tree trunks. Rio snarled and sank low on the branch, going completely motionless in the way of his kind. The hunter had just become the hunted.