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Old Man And The Ocelot Cub (Part 2) - Poem by Vasto Grom

As I open the make shift gate to my little patch of the island where I call home my new little friend jumps from the top of my head and with a little puff sound lands on the fine sand sending up a small cloud. I chuckle to myself as the sand settles. The little ocelot cub takes off and begins happily bounding around my camp, all the while stopping and sniffing the many nick-nacks I have collected from around the island. My camp is nothing impressive but it is well re-enforced and is rather comfortable, at least to me it is. I watch her contently as I begin to prepare our breakfast for the fire. I slowly gut and scale the fish and my new friend slowly pokes her face up from the log on the other side of the fire. She sniffs the air and then stares at the fish with wide and hungry eyes. I laugh then cut off a good portion of the nearly 20 lb fish and lay it on the log in front of her. 'There you go little one.' I say softly as if she can understand what I say. She sniffs the fish then oddly enough runs off and into my hut. As I ponder why she would do such a thing when she was obviously hungery I hear rustling from the hut. She imerges with a small can of spices I have made from various floura that grow nearby my camp. I find myself intriged at how she was able to know what was in the can as she drops it infront of the fish and begins trying to open it. I can't help but laugh as I watch her desperatly attempts to open the jar by biting, pawing it, and even bunny kicking it. I eventually reach over and pop the top of while she is kicking the lid with her back paws. I smile at her as the spice gently falls out on the log and applaud her. 'Good job little one! ' She stops, looks at me confused then at the open jar and purrs loudly. Once again I must admit I felt the ground rumble under me when she did. She then paws the spice all over the fish then starts dragging the piece of fish that was easily three times her size towards me. I pet her softly as she lets go of the fish then looks up at me, then at the fish, then the fire, then once more at me. I smile and scritch her ears. 'You want me to cook your fish little one? ' She emmits another ground rumbling purr as I take both of our breakfasts and stick them on the spit over the fire. As I sit and stare at the burning embers in the fire I suddenly see my new little friend staring back at from inside the fire. I let out a cry of shock and fear then with my bare hands I go to pull her out. Though when me hand was a mere instant away from the flames I say her burst out of the flames and stick me in the chest with amazing force and sending me back. I breathed hard for a few moments as I clutched my little friend close then was struck by the realization that she was fine. I lifted up my head and stared up at her and saw that she not only wasn't burned but seemed as if nothing had happened to her. She looked at me and began mewing softly and rubbing against my chest as if she were trying to apologize for making me worry. I slowly lowered my head and laid it down back on the fine sand and slowly began to cry for the first time in many years as I held my little friend close. I was crying not only because I was relieved that she was ok but also because for that brief moment when I was reaching to pull her out of the flames I felt something I hadn't felt for nearly fifthteen years. I felt the cold and sharp pain of thinking I would once again be left on this island all alone.

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