leopard attacks


Part one of some photos that were taken on Falkon, my citys convention :D Went out with good friends of mine and had a great time. Shame it just ended but darn, we goofed arounds so much XDDD Thanks guys very much for visit and hope wie will see each other again sometime! ♥

Sans- @paurachan
Red- @zjedzgoffra
Swap Pap- @redheaderror
Fellswap Pap- @mind-the-rabbits

Undertale © Toby Fox


Leopard Seal

The leopard seal (Hydrurga leptonyx), also referred to as the sea leopard, is the second largest species of seal in the Antarctic (after the southern elephant seal). The leopard seal is large and muscular, with a dark grey back and light grey on its stomach. Its throat is whitish with the black spots that give the seal its common name. The overall length of this seal is 7.9–11.5 feet and weight is from 440 to 1,320 pounds. 

Keep reading


Talon was raiding Morrison’s Clan once again, but this time, they had waited to attack for nearly an entire year. They gathered more allies, and Sombra cooked up stronger poisons to use against the members of Morrison’s Clan. After their last attack the leopard swore she would make deadlier potions, once she heard news that the cheetah, Tracer as they say, had been cured faster than she should have been.

Widowmaker improved her agility, also intrigued by what she had seen from Tracer. There was no way she would be able to catch her, but maybe if the cheetah got close enough, she would be faster than last time to strike.

Reaper was impressed by their improvements, and when he thought they were ready, he planned their attack.

Morrison was in no way prepared, and took quite the bite in the shoulder from who was once his mate. They used the element of surprise, leaping from the bushes while Morrison, McCree, and Tracer were on hunting patrol. Hanzo had been left to gaurd their prey.

Upon being circled, McCree knew the last thing he should do at a time like this was panic. But that’s what he felt like, knowing Hanzo was alone back there. What if he was being attacked too? How could he defend himself against so many other wolves and lions?
He quickly muttered his worries to Tracer, knowing she would be fast enough to get to him, if they weren’t already too late. He could fight alongside Morrison no problem. But the Clan leader refused she go anywhere alone.

He whispered to them, “As soon as they leap, we make a run to the left. My left. Got it?”

“Acknowledged,” McCree whimpered, keeping his gaze steady on the intruders around them. He mostly watched for their ears, waiting for a kind of sign– like a flick, or slight turn. It was the only way of knowing when the order was given.
And when a lion was too quick to jump, Morrison shouted his command of retreat as the other Talon members jumped for them.

McCree wasn’t sure he had run so fast in his entire life, trailing just a few meters behind Tracer. Of course the distance between them grew larger, but it took a little longer than usual.
They found their prey pile, and the snow leopard guarding it was taken by quite some surprise and nearly leapt for Tracer’s throat. He spat out a retort, asking for a warning next time. But there wasn’t much time, McCree explained as Morrison finally caught up to them.

“Talon is attackin’ again,” the wolf panted out, beginning to wag his tail as energy pulsed through him. He was ready to run again if need be, but was mostly glad to see Hanzo was safe.

“Well we can’t risk waiting around and getting poisoned.” Hanzo pointed out, and Morrison quickly agreed.

Tracer said, “The Waterhole Flock could help us like last time, though?”

“But Sombra is always improvin’ ‘er poisons,” McCree sighed.

“Well we aren’t going to run.” Morrison growled, “We’re going to defend what’s ours.”

“Of course.” Hanzo nods, just as the undergrowth behind Morrison began to rustle. Out leaped a wolf with barely any tail left, leaping onto the lion’s back and biting into his thick blonde mane. Morrison roared in surprise, and McCree didn’t hesitate to tackle the rival off the Clan leader, rolling the wolf into the ground. His opponent snapped at his throat, but McCree was faster to get a bite in the nape of its neck, tossing the wolf across the ground like a simple piece of prey. It ran off, tail between its legs just as four more enemies leaped from the undergrowth.

The three felines and wolf of Morrison’s Clan quickly chose their opponents and took them down easily, brutally wounding them and sending each enemy back to where it had come from. But more Talon members kept coming, easily beginning to outnumber them.
Hanzo was swift with bringing a panther off of McCree, clawing at the enemy’s eyes and shoving them into the thick bushes. Tracer was this way and that, confusing the opponents with her moves while Morrison attacked from behind.

But they couldn’t fight forever.

“Jesse!” Hanzo snarled through a mouthful of fur, dragging a coyote off of himself. McCree quickly took to the snow leopard’s side, his sides heaving with every breath he took. Hanzo noticed blood trickle from beneath familiar brown fur, just along the wolf’s sides. He was hurt, but still fought like a lion. Hanzo had to resist complimenting him.

“Come with me, I have an alternative that may turn the tide of this battle.”

“Huh?” McCree gasped, confused by Hanzo’s words. “Wha’d'ya mean?”

“Just follow me!” Hanzo says, turning tail and running rather fast. “And quickly!”

McCree wasted no time in trailing beside Hanzo, trying to pace himself and match steps with the snow leopard. He was quick to discover that Hanzo was rather light on his left paw, as if he picked up a thorn or had been wounded in a fight. But if that had been the case, Hanzo would have done something about it first. Whatever was the matter, he wasn’t making any kind of deal out of it, so McCree just ignored the particular case.
They were quick to come upon the edge of the territory, a hill marking the end of it. McCree began to slow, but the snow leopard simply dashed across their border line and moved up the hill as if he hadn’t just exited their home land. McCree, now behind Hanzo, was growing nervous. What was this ‘alternative’? He was anxious to know.

At the top of the hill, Hanzo came to an abrupt stop, and McCree nearly ran passed him. They were now on the verge of a very small cliff, making it appear the hill had been cut in half. Jumping it wouldn’t kill anyone, but it might hurt your paws. So the wolf followed the snow leopard around it, walking onto smooth rock near the bottom. And, cut into the flat side of the hill, a large, unlit cave yawned before them. It was facing away from the rising and setting sun, so it was likely this cave didn’t get much light at all. McCree had never even been here before.

“Han’?” he asked, “What is this?”

Hanzo however did not respond, simply entering the cave silently like a tired cat slinking home. McCree wasn’t sure he wanted to know what was in there. But if Hanzo was bold enough to enter, obviously he had been here before, then there was probably nothing to worry about. Still, he was worried.

“Hanzo?” he barked, giving a slight way of his tail. His ears flattened against his head, and he whined softly, aching to see the familiar face of the snow leopard already.

And then, there was a roar, like the call of a lion. It echoed from deep within the cave, as if several large felines called out to one other. What was this? An entire hidden society of lions?

He was quickly answered when Hanzo charged out of the cave with a wild look in his face, excitement glittering from the snow leopard’s eyes. McCree wasn’t sure if he had ever seen Hanzo so… Happy… before. Was he secretly the alpha of a completely different clan? He hasn’t even heard a thing from in there.
But while Hanzo stood beside McCree, facing the cave again with a wicked smile, two very, very large black and white birds exploded from the cave as if they had come from an entirely different dimension. They arose into the air and screeched their ferocious arival, making Hanzo purr.

“The raptors awaken!” Hanzo cries, dashing around the hill to return to the fight. McCree quickly followed, his eyes on the giant birds the entire time. He knew for sure that he had never seen any kind of bird so big. It was amazing, really.

“Those are some big ass birds,” McCree says to the snow leopard beside him, not even realizing he was matching his pace so quickly. The raptors easily kept up with them from the air, though McCree bet they could fly much faster than that.
“What are they?” he pants, “Hawk? Eagle?”

“Osprey,” Hanzo replies, starting to run a little faster. McCree took up the hint, and gave it all he got in running to return to Morrison and Lena. It was dangerous to just leave them behind in an ambush like that, and they couldn’t waste any time in getting to them. He easily pulled in front of Hanzo, but didn’t get much farther than a few feet before they broke into the battlefield.

Immediately McCree jumped over Morrison and rammed into a certain lioness that was trying to kill him. Widowmaker.
She slashed at his side, but he had already rolled onto his side to dodge such a blow. He made a comeback however, coming to bite into her shoulder, but she quickly snapped around and knocked him back with a paw. He was stunned for a moment, and had no time to retaliate as she bared down on him. But before she could make any kind if final blow, a loud cry rang out that distracted most everyone.

“The raptor hunts for its prey!”

An ear-splitting screech came from above, and Widowmaker hissed in fear. She began to reel away from McCree, but wasn’t quick enough as one of the large birds had clawed at her back in attempt to grab her. She twisted out of the way just in time, but she was gonna have one heck of a scar under her pelt.

“Thanks, Han’.” The wolf murmured, but he had spoken too soon.

“This isn’t over,” a feminine voice snarled, and McCree wasn’t quick enough to move out of the way as he was clawed across his left shoulder. The pain hadn’t come just yet, so he wasted no time in coming forward and biting into the leopard’s shoulder in return. Sombra hissed, attempting to swipe at him again, but he dodged to the side, ramming into her ribcage. He knocked her over and rolled onto his side when she tried to claw again, but ended the brawl quickly by snapping at her neck. She reeled herself away when his fangs got too close, and quickly bolted away.
She should have known better than to mess with him.

But those thoughts were quickly dragged away when he realized the raptor birds were tearing the enemy clan apart. They flew high with a Talon member in their, well, talons, and dropped them from the sky. Then they would dive again and claw at some, poke at others, and knock some away with their wings. It was a rather awesome scene to watch, considering they were winning now.
It was making him feel dizzy.

His head spun, and the world kind of duplicated itself before his eyes. Now there were four raptor birds, oh, no, there were only two– three? No, there was definitely four.
McCree whimpered when he was losing focus, and his left shoulder was becoming numb. Soon enough he couldn’t even feel the left side of his body. But by the time he collapsed, he knew everything would be alright. They were going to win.

@shadeyenora this is amazing!!! Sorry that it took us so much time to get to your post, we truly wished we could have read it sooner! It’s so intriguing, all the battle and the plot twists!  We especially adored how McCree was checking the ears of the Talons attacker to see their reactions and how he waggled his tail when he saw that Hanzo was ok… that’s so adorable! Also, Tracer was this way and that, is the perfect definition of Tracer and it’s just amazing how Jesse stand up and fight like a lion even if he’s hurt because he’s fighting for something that it’s dear to him. Last but not least… the raptors. They’re just amazing! We can imagine these magnificent huge birds smashing stuff and it’s such a powerful image! (also, we can imagine Hanzo giving them head scratches and they all fluff up <3 <3 ) Thank you SO MUCH for writing this, we love it dearly <3


“  When humans see chimpanzees and tigers, we just see chimpanzees and tigers. It’s hard for us to pick out a better looking chimpanzee or a better looking tiger. In my eyes… humans are the same. They are all the same. But amongst all the similar humans, she’s somewhat different. How is she different?

She is like a leopard I saw in a documentary once. The leopard had a broken leg and had run into a hyena. The leopard was hurt and it was clear there was no chance. The leopard attacked first. The leopard did not back down. She’s like that too. It’s not that she’s brave because she doesn’t know any better. She is brave despite knowing how scary it is. 

After seeing the leopard documentary I really cried a lot. I’m getting teary thinking about it. Anyway… I don’t feel good about it. It’s not my style to run and hide.  ”

anonymous asked:

What's shaman sickness? How do you know if you have it? Is it just a gut feeling you get?

Hi, Nonny. Thanks for writing to me. This is a topic I really ought to have written about sooner! The term “shaman sickness” and related concepts do pop up often in occult circles, and while I hinted at the issue before, I believe I ought to address it at length. I’ll try to do so here, but do realize that this is simply my own take on the issue.

Note: Throughout this, I’ll be using the word “shaman” in the anthropological sense, not referring to New Age “shamans,” nor the holy men of Tunguska tribes that use said title. It’s a general anthropological term and I’m at loss for a better one.

Historically “shaman sickness” referred to an illness or hardship of some sort that befell a person in a tribal (or similar) society and presaged a shamanic occupation. In other words, a person experienced the sickness, and soon after felt a calling to act as a shaman or similar figure. 

These illnesses could range from depression to long bouts of fever, and could even include things like recovering from a wild animal attack. This feature isn’t universal, but many societies did “choose” their shamans in this fashion.

Judika Illes writes of this:

Although some enlist, many more are drafted. Very frequently the individual has little choice in the matter. The spirits choose you, their call manifesting through dreams, visions (not necessarily your own), illness, bad luck, and/ or animal attack. Traditionally, in some places, surviving bear, snake, or jaguar attacks was interpreted as a shamanic call. 

Illes, Judika. Encyclopedia of Witchcraft: The Complete A-Z for the Entire Magical World (Kindle Locations 604-611). HarperCollins. Kindle Edition.

Nowadays, with the New Age movement having merged with a lot of anti-science/luddite folks, many people jump on this. They say that chronic illnesses (and, unfortunately), especially mental illnesses, are signs that a person must become a “shaman” or “healer.” 

Some go as far as to claim that simply becoming a shaman is a cure or treatment for the given illness. I’ve written about this here and why I find it infuriating

I don’t think ancient peoples really “cured” people of things like leopard attacks and psychosis through placing them in a shamanic role. Here’s what I think was actually happening.

In ancient tribal societies, there were no doctors, no a truly systemized way for people to get effective treatment for anything, be it a bout of fever or a jaguar attack. Most people were utterly unprepared to deal with such things, and had no idea what methods worked best. 

Except for those who’d been there and experienced it.

Basically, I think that, in ancient societies, those who’d suffered illness were considered healers because they, having survived, knew (at least some) methods for treating such things. This could mean knowing which plants and preparations healed a jaguar bite, or it could mean knowing techniques and copying mechanisms for lessening depression. 

In short, I think a sickness was only considered “shaman sickness” insofar as the person’s experience of it allowed them to help others. I’m not even sure the concept is useful in this day and age. 

It’s true that those who’ve successfully tangled with a nasty sickness might be able to help others through something similar, but the way the term is usually used in occult communities just causes problems. 

Often, it reeks of the “You’re such an inspiration!” nonsense. By that, I mean the half-baked idea that disabled, mentally ill and chronically ill people have an obligation to turn their life into some kind of glurge-tastic tale of triumph, when in reality? 

We just want to live our lives, and have no goddamn obligation to “inspire” anyone. It reminds me of those losers who want praise and adulation for going to prom with an autistic person or whatever. 

We don’t need condescending attitudes like that, and yes, the New Age “it’s actually a shamanic gift!” thing is condescending as hell. 

It’s even worse because half of these “you are an indigo rainbow shaman!” folks will try to dissuade people from doing things like entering therapy or taking medication. Those are things some (including myself) have actually found beneficial. Such things should not be stigmatized, especially by other magical practitioners. Magical folks really ought know better than that!

Is there a place for the concept of “shaman sickness” in the modern world? Perhaps if it is framed in the context of uncomfortable mystical/magical experiences (which can often be disturbing, but not pathological). 

Or, perhaps it could be understood first by understanding that the concept of “healer” has changed immensely over time. Those who do feel a calling to be such as a result of a traumatic illness or experience tend to approach it with this in mind. 

I think most of us who do deal with these things regularly understand the issue. Those who’ve never had such an experience (illness or trauma, etc.,) tend to be much more likely to assign supernatural causes to things like this. At least, I seem to have noticed that.

I hope this post wasn’t too controversial or anything. People are going to have differing views on such a volatile topic. I’ll admit I can be a bit touchy about it myself, mostly due to things that have happened to me in the past, but I hope I came across politely and that my perspective makes sense.

Echo Ch 8: in which Claire is so patently Claire

There are few things more enjoyable than sitting in relative warmth and comfort while watching fellow human beings soused in cold water. If said human beings present a complete review of the nude male form, so much the better. […]

Matters thereafter became generally chaotic, with a great deal of promiscuous splashing, yelling, hooting, and jumping off of rocks, which gave me the opportunity to reflect on just how delightful naked men are. Not that I hadn’t seen a good many of them in my time, but aside from Frank and Jamie, most men I’d seen undressed usually had been either ill or injured, and were encountered in such circumstances as to prevent a leisurely appreciation of their finer attributes.

From Orrie’s chubbiness and Aidan’s spidery winter-white limbs to Bobby’s skinny, pale torso and neat little flat behind, the McCallum-Higginses were as entertaining to watch as a cageful of monkeys.

Ian and Jamie were something different—baboons, perhaps, or mandrills. They didn’t really resemble each other in any attribute other than height, and yet were plainly cut from the same cloth. Watching Jamie squatting on a rock above the pool, thighs tensing for a leap, I could easily see him preparing to attack a leopard, while Ian stretched himself glistening in the sun, warming his dangly bits while keeping an alert watch for intruders. All they needed were purple bottoms, and they could have walked straight onto the African veldt, no questions asked.

They were all lovely, in their wildly various ways, but it was Jamie my gaze returned to, over and over again. He was battered and scarred, his muscles roped and knotted, and age had grooved the hollows between them. The thick welt of the bayonet scar writhed up his thigh, wide and ugly, while the thinner white line of the scar left by a rattlesnake’s bite was nearly invisible, clouded by the thick fuzz of his body hair, this beginning to dry now and stand out from his skin in a cloud of reddish-gold. The scimitar-shaped sword cut across his ribs had healed well, too, no more than a hair-thin white line by now.

He turned round and bent to pick up a cake of soap from the rock, and my insides turned over. It wasn’t purple but could not otherwise have been improved on, being high, round, delicately dusted with red-gold, and with a delightful muscular concavity to the sides. His balls, just visible from behind, were purple with the cold, and gave me a strong urge to creep up behind him and cup them in my rock-warmed hands.

I wondered whether the resultant standing broad-jump would enable him to clear the pool. I had not, in fact, seen him naked—or even substantially undressed—in several months.

But now … I threw back my head, closing my eyes against the brilliant spring sun, enjoying the tickle of my own fresh-washed hair against my shoulder blades. The snow was gone, the weather was good—and the whole outdoors beckoned invitingly, filled with places where privacy could be assured, bar the odd skunk.

–Echo in the Bone, Ch 8, Diana Gabaldon

anonymous asked:

I offer the smoke from the hundredth cigarette I swore would be my last, the hopeful feeling of the first warm day of spring, and a tongue weighed down by goodbyes left unsaid to people who didn't deserve to hear them. How do I know if what I'm doing is healing, or hiding from what I'm too scared to face?


• Snow leopards can’t roar. Oh and if you want to make some cool fight scenes, let every snow leopard character attack from above. It would seem natural if we look at their hunting habit which is jumping on the prey from a high spot.

• Tigers can’t purr- they show happiness by closing their eyes. It’s also a sign of trust since losing vision means that they become easier to attack. And if you want to make a tiger fight…oh boy…just look at how they fight each other- it’s short but often deathly.

[Thank me later if you could make use of this facts]

The 100 Preference #3

When you got hurt in battle/ an attack + what they like about you

A/N: Sooo I’ve decided to leave Finn out, because he, you know.. If you want me to make imagine for him or someone else, just let me know. Your interests are my number 1 priority. 


“Where is she?” He asked worriedly. Abby sighed and turned around to you. He quickly ran over to you and sat down on the bed. 

“Hi, Bell.” You spoke quietly.

“Oh, don’t you ‘Hi, Bell’ me.” Bellamy said as he eyed you cautiously. He grabbed your hand and sighed heavily. His brown eyes scanned you from head to toe. Your arms were all cut as you were bleeding from your legs. Abby had just managed to slow the bleeding down. 

 "I should have never let you fight.“ Bellamy said quietly, his voice filled with guilt. 

“It’s okay, Bellamy. A little bleeding ain’t hurt no one.” He huffed and glared at you playfully. You always manage to make joke at the most inappropriate times. You always know how to lighten up the mood. It’s one of the little thing he absolutely loves about you. You grinned widely and pulled him closer until your lips touched him making the others behind Bellamy smile.


“Clarke! Abby! Help!” Jasper shouted as he carried you back to Arkadia. You went hunting with him before a grown leopard attacked you. It tackled you to the ground and managed a good dig with its sharp nails into you hip. At the corner of your eyes you could see Clarke running towards you after her name was called. You were to weak to respond as Jasper quickly ran into the medical and dropped you onto a bed.

“Clarke, you’ve got to help her, please.” Jasper pleaded almost in tears. Luckily Clarke stopped the bleeding and gave you medicine. She said you would healed in a week. Jasper had asked of some private times with you and she gladly accept his request. He sat down facing you and stroked your hair.

“This is all my fault.” He spoke and swallowed a lump his throat.

“No, no, this is not your fault, Jas.” You took his hand and squeezed it. “This was an accident. No one wanted it to happen. I bet that jaguar was just as hungry as us.”

“Oh, can you stop defending everything?” Jasper rolled his eyes trying his best not to smile. You were the one that gave everyone and everything a second chance. You were the optimistic one in the group. Jasper fell in love with you becuase you let him redeem his mistakes when no one gave him the chance to.


Lincoln’s worried eyes searched through the room filled with injured soldiers and warriors. He was looking for only one person. A flush of relief ran through his body as his eyes lit up before running towards the far end of the room. You were sitting on a bed with Clarke bending your arm. You yelped in pain as she pulled your arm out slightly creating a cracking noise. 

“Oh, hi, Lincoln.” You said after you’ve noticed him. 

“What happened?” His eyes widened in horror. “Her arm got twisted. I have to put it back to shape. And the only way is..” Clarke explained before another cracking sound was heard as you yelp again. 

“Woah, easy there.” You looked down at your arm. 

“Sorry.” Clarke smiled sheepishly. Lincoln sat down next to you as Clarke got up to get you bandages.

“That looks painful, Y/N.” Lincoln spoke softly as he studied your arm. 

“I’m fine, Lincoln.” You turned to him. “If only Clarke hadn’t bend my arm backwards, literally.” You whispered the last part only for him to hear making him grinned and glance towards Clarke. He loves your sass. You could always sass about something in every situation. The first time you met him in the woods he’d gotten a sass comment by you. First he hated them but then they became his favorite thing about you. 


“Y/N!” Clarke called breathlessly as she ran towards you. Everyone who circled around you parted as they heard Clarke. She kneeled next to you and studied your thigh. You accidently got shot by a security guard near Arkadia.

“Who did this?” Her blue eyes looked up at you.

“Clarke, it’s just accident. It’s fine, really.” I put your hand on hers that was resting on your knee. 

“We’ll leave you alone.” Bellamy spoke before everyone left the medical tent. Clarke sighed and looked at your leg before looking for tools get the bullet out.

“Clarke, I’m not pressing charges, okay?” She turned around at you and just nodded. She began to pull the bullet out. Luckily it wasn’t in your thigh but only a third of it. You winced in pain and bit your lip. After about 15 minutes, she sighed in relief before announcing that she’s done. You smiled at her as she packed the things back into the first-aid kit. 

“Clarke?” You said her name making her look up at you. Before she could respond, you leaned and kissed her lips. She breathed out lightly and grinned into the kiss. You pulled away after a few seconds then pecked her lips again.

“Thanks.” Softly, you spoke. She grinned widely and kissed you again. The kisses are what she craves most about you. Clarke’s favorite thing in the whole world is the way your soft lips feel on her own. Never had she ever felt so alive before the moment your first kiss happened. 


"Heda.” Indra stopped her and she looked around. 

“Where is Y/N? Is she okay? Is she hurt?” Lexa asked worriedly before her second took her to you. Her eyes widened the moment they landed on you. Nyko was using a piece of cloth to clean the big wound on your leg. Lexa started walking over you. 

“Lexa.” You breathed out. 

“Heda.” Nyko bowed down slightly as he noticed her. She nodded before turning her attention to you. 

“How is she?” She asked the healer. 

“Large wound, but not to deep. It’s only about a few inches in. She will heal very soon.” Nyko replied before looking at his Commander. She nodded before sending both Indra and him out. Once no one was seen, Lexa wrapped her arms around you and breathed out in relief. 

“Thank God. I was so worried when I couldn’t find you.” She said and stroked your hair. 

“I’m okay.” A smile made its way across your face. The Commander couldn’t help but let a small smile be visible on her face. Your smile is the one thing that keeps her going everyday. After Costia’s death, Lexa thought her heart would never melt for anyone again. She’d sworn to herself never to let her heart get broken by letting her guards down ever again. She broke the promise that she made to herself the day she met you in one of her villages. Your captivating smile had attracted her towards you. For the first time in her entire life Lexa was glad she’d broken a promise.


“When humans look at chimpanzees or tigers, they’ll just say, "It’s just a chimpanzee” or “It’s just a tiger”. Among those, it’s hard to find a slightly prettier chimpanzee or a slightly more handsome tiger. In my eyes, humans are the same. They all look the same. But among the similar human beings, she’s quite different. If you ask me how different…she’s like a leopard that I saw from a documentary before. That leopard, that had hurt its legs, crossed paths with a pack of hyenas. It was obvious that it definitely wouldn’t win, even more so because it was injured, but that leopard attacked first, and did not back away. 
That girl was the same. It’s not that she wasn’t scared because she did not know better, but she was brave, despite knowing how scary it was.


When humans see chimpanzees and tigers, we just see chimpanzees and tigers. It’s hard to pick out a better looking chimpanzee or a better looking tiger. In my eyes, humans are the same. They are all the same. But amongst all the similar humans, she’s somewhat different. How is she different? She’s like a leopard I saw in a documentary once. The leopard had a broken leg and had run into a hyena. The leopard was hurt. It was clear that there was no chance it could win the fight, but the leopard attacked first. The leopard didn’t back down. She’s like that. It’s not that she’s brave because she doesn’t know any better. She’s brave even though she knows how scared she is.