【Hyenas】

I managed it again, painting my face in the sweat of hyenas directly in front of their young, slithering across brittle carcasses not unlike my own body—their wavy tracks still engraved into the mud, a drought maintaining the ground’s cracked texture. Despite living below a dry, baking overhang—these cats still laugh and thrive, sipping salted water from the honey badger’s eyes, and wine from the breathing skins of cobras.

They cackle alongside each of interpretive hiss I give, oblivious to how I root myself within their pack, body wrapped around their ribs. So tempted I am to squeeze, though knowing it will give away my identity as the snake they once had wrangled.