It can't end here

A numbat skitters through the South Australian bush floor as if she is a predator in the Sahara chasing her prey.

Although she isn't the hunter now.

Her heart races violently as she makes a desperate attempt to outrun her fiery pursuer. 

Bad-oom Bad-oom Bad-oom

The fox's stride is an orchestra of drums behind her, almost syncing with the erratic pulsing in her ears.

Like a flame licking at her hind, the fox draws closer, it's okay, she thinks, I’m almost there.

Pushing herself to run faster she is as agile as a gazelle and as quick as a cheetah.

Her legs brace against the ground of the leaf-littered earth as she harshly halts at the edge of a clearing; a fresh clearing.

Damp earth and burnt fuel invade her senses like gas in the night. No, no it can't end here.

Desperate pleas, pointless pleas.

Pain shoots through her neck as blade-like teeth pierce her spotted fur.

Peace at last, no cats, no foxes and no humans.

Her eyes close in a way almost too poetic as the fox makes its victory back to her hungry kits.