The Awakening of Halfpaw Protector

Prologue

The jaguar picked up his knife and carefully, methodically, weighed its balance in his paw. It was no longer a toy, his long scar and two missing claws could bear record.

With a flick of his wrist he tossed the six inches of sharpened steel up into the air. It revolved once, flashing in the candle light, then, came down like lightning!

A heart stopping second-!

Plop.

The cold handle of the knife rested safely in his opposite paw.

A slight smile.

Well done. Perhaps stupid, but well done. He still had it in him, or, more accurately, out of him.

Slowly, the weapon slid safely home into its sheath. Safe for now. Safe.

The jaguar’s jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed.

But, now that it was “safe”, could he go back? Could this weapon of war once more become just an act?

He snorted.

He now knew what it could do.

He now knew what he could do.

How simple it used to be. . . if only he had known then.

Hours after hours, week after week, month after month, preparing, practicing, and planning. It had served him well. . . all but the planning.

The truth was, he no longer could remember exactly what he had been planning. . . Probably something foolhardy or selfish.

It did him no good.

It did nobody good.

So, what now?

The call of the road was still there. The colorful life of laughter and chatter, the great show and pomp, but. . .

But . . .

A sigh.

Another call.

Another voice?

A desperate cry!

Help!

Shield Hide Shelter