Diego hadn't had a successful hunt in months now. Hunger has been savagely constricting his empty stomach ever since summer metamorphosed into fall, and unbearable weakness has started to take control of his body. He had a constant headache that had yet to let up, and his ribs stuck out like a family of polar bears living in Miami. The unstoppable growling in his stomach didn't help matters, either, especially since it reminded the sabre of how close to death he really was. Scavenging had been the only thing that had sustained him up until now, and he could tell that his method of survival this season was failing him. Even corpses had become rare.
About a week ago, Diego became desperate enough for food to leave his herd in search of a place where prey was more abundant. When he did leave, he didn't want his herbivorous friends to go out of their way to try to find some meat for him to wolf up; and so, he acted like his stomach was content. He acted as if he weren't slowly starving to death. He never had told them the real reason for his sudden departure. "Oh, I just have something to take care of," he had said. "I'll be back soon," he told them. And they had all shrugged this off, all as confident he would return as Diego seemed to act like. That's just what he wanted; he didn't want them to worry, or pity him, or feed him their dead, plant-eating friends. No, this was his struggle. Problem was, he wasn't going to live much longer. Not in this condition.
He had been slowly and blindly stumbling through a random, dense forest he had run into, desperate in his search to find something to eat. After days of going at this alarmingly slow pace, this great predator was almost dead. Starved to death. His sensitive nose was of no use anymore; dizziness had disabled the tiger to process any scents that his nose happened to pick up. Therefore, finding an unguarded corpse was next to impossible in Diego's weakened state. But although he was barely conscious and felt like hurling over and dying, he didn't stop moving forward. He never stopped searching for his well-deserved meal. He was still alive; he had earned it.
Spots and dots were dancing around tauntingly in his field of vision, urging the faint and shaky cat to stop walking and give up. Even though at that point he still didn't give up his search, it was getting harder and harder to pull through another step by the minute. One tree eventually turned into four. The glistening snow eventually turned into a giant, flat, blinding sun. Grounded leaves multiplied uncontrollably. And then, out of nowhere, Diego just fell over. Limp...too exhausted to go on anymore. His head was spinning, and stars whirled around in the air. He tried again and again to get back up on his feet, but his efforts were in vain. His stomach growled, and he winced.
He was so weak...so hungry. He felt himself slowly slipping away. His breathing became more and more shallow with each breath he took. And no matter how much he wanted to, he didn't feel like moving or trying to get up again. He blinked his eyes, but he couldn't focus. Everything was a blur. So this is what dying really feels like, he thought. This is what it's like to starve to death.
It obviously wasn't very fun. Not a good way to go. His empty stomach felt as if someone had violently thrust a dull spear into it. He clutched his abdomen desperately to try to subdue the pain- -but it did nothing to help. He winced harder with every agonizing growl his stomach made, and his dizziness just kept on getting worse and worse. The once-powerful sabre felt utterly helpless, lying in pain on the ground and letting his hunger kill him without him being able to do a thing about it. His dignity was dying along with him.
An hour went by, and surely enough Diego was doing no better. He was blacking out for a few seconds every ten minutes or so, and his stomach hurt so badly he felt like vomiting. He was in agony at that point, and he just wanted the pain to end. He gritted his teeth and shut his eyes tight. He had experienced suffering like this before- -back at Half Peak. Only this time, it was five times worse. He would take a bloody shoulder wound over starving any day. But wishing got you nowhere. Despite the pain, he allowed his muscles to relax. His energy was drained. The world was moving all around him. The snow was jumping five feet off the ground. The trees seemed to be doing the Hula. Flowers blowing in the wind looked like millions of slithering snakes. Diego shut his eyes to keep from getting any dizzier than he already was, but still there was a loud ringing in his ears. Sleep overcame him.
He thought he'd never wake up again. He believed the pain was gone and that he wouldn't live to see another day. But no. A sharp, stabbing pinch to his front left paw brought him back to life. His eyes snapped open, even though they still couldn't focus as well as Diego would have wanted them to. He looked to the source of the pinch- -at his paw. On it, he could faintly make out a small, black ant. He groaned, and dropped his head back down to the ground tiredly. "Dumb ant," he mumbled, almost inaudibly. He didn't want to have been woken up just to die of starvation all over again. The unbearable pain had been absent when he was sleeping, and he had been hoping it would have stayed that way. He was in the middle of a train of thought when the ant bit him again. He growled softly without looking up.
But the ant was stubborn. He bit the sabre again. And again. And again. And again. And by that point, Diego was annoyed. He was already in enough discomfort, and he didn't think he needed any more. With another growl, he sat up. He stared at the ant, and made the decision in his mind that if the ant were to bite him once more, he was going to kill it. Instead, the small, black ant jumped off of Diego's paw and into the dirt-stained snow. The perplexed sabre continued to glare at it. Using all of its small, thin legs, the ant began to crawl away from the sabre. Almost like it wanted him to follow it. After about a foot, the ant turned around to look back at the starving feline. Diego sighed, and fell like a rag doll back onto the ground. Stupid ant.
He closed his eyes once more, awaiting sleep. It seemed as though his tired eyes had only been closed one minute when another stabbing pinch was delivered to his paw. He quickly sat up with a louder growl than before, beyond annoyed with the petite insect. Without thinking rationally, he tried to crush the ant with his other paw, aiming to end its life. But the ant was too quick. It fell from Diego's paw into the snow once again, and fled from the agitated sabre as fast as it could. Forgetting about his weakness, he let the anger fuel his body into trying to attack the ant that had disturbed him. He absolutely didn't want the ant to come back and keep biting him again. And so, as the ant traveled further and further away from him, Diego crawled forward as well, mainly using his two front legs. Paws came down into the snow, claws extended, aiming for the helpless ant. Because the ant was so fast, Diego kept missing his target. And it certainly didn't help with eyes that could never focus. From his point of view, there were several ants crawling along in the snow. He kept striking the ones that didn't exist accidentally.
The fleeing ant was now almost out of reach. Without even realizing it, Diego stood up, staggering forward as the ant tried to escape. As the ant moved forward, so did Diego. With the ant coaching him to keep going, he took a step. And then another. And then another. Pretty soon, Diego was walking, all the while trying to catch this ant. He was going only a little faster than a snail, but he was beginning to make progress. The ant dodged the cat's attacks over and over again. And they both moved forward. Now Diego was completely determined to kill this ant; if not, he would have considered himself to be outsmarted by it. And that wasn't happening. Not to Diego. And so the extremely short chase continued. Eventually they had moved one yard. Then two. Then three. And they just kept on going. Being so absorbed in his activity, Diego couldn't keep track of time. His focus was only on this ant.
But then...he smelled something. It smelled like...food. With another growl from his stomach, he looked up. The smell was strong. His unfocused eyes could see something up ahead...like a large, brown mound. One word was ringing throughout the cat's mind. One word that could save his life: food.
He stumbled forward. The pain still present in his stomach was agony, but he was determined. Forgetting all about the ant, Diego trudged forward. Toward the mound. His head spun, his ears rang, and his poor abdomen was continuously being stabbed, but he managed to ignore it. He focused on making it to his possible lifeline.
It took a while. Slowly but surely. And he just got closer and closer. Just thinking about the possible dead animal lying right in front of him made him drool with hunger. He struggled to walk.
And at last. At last he was upon it. The image to him was unfocused, but he managed to make out the fact that the mound was a large, dead boar. But to him, it was a feast. He almost laughed out loud in relief. He tore the skin, and started to savagely devour his find.
It was the best thing he ever felt. His empty stomach slowly filled. He felt more and more normal as he ate; the wooziness in his head began to fade. His eyesight drastically improved. The ringing in his ears stopped. The pain went away. For the first time in months, Diego was able to gorge himself with rich, nutrition meat. Food. He enjoyed each and every bite he took, relishing the feeling of something solid finally going down his throat. He loved the feeling of his returning strength.
He almost didn't notice the poor, little ant walk up next to him.
He saw the ant out of the corner of his eye, and he paused his feasting. He stood there, over the carcass that had saved his life, staring down on the ant that had motivated him to get up in the first place. The sabre slowly realized that if the ant had never bit him, or had not coached him to stand and walk, he might have just starved to death. Still have been lying lifeless in the snow. Alone, and most likely dead. But no. This ant came along. And saved him by leading him to this corpse. Diego smiled genuinely.
"I guess you're not so dumb after all," he said aloud. He ripped a tiny piece of meat off of the boar and gently placed it beside the ant. The insect looked back at Diego, as if sending him a thank you message, before placing his gift on his back and returning to wherever he came from.
No, Diego thought to himself, thank you.
He ate and ate and ate until there wasn't a single trace of meat left.
...
"Diego, you're back!" Sid greeted upon the sabre's arrival. Diego had walked into the village with not only a full belly, but also an embarrassing secret.
"So, why'd you have to leave?" Manny asked. He walked casually up to the sabre, wondering why his friend had been gone for over a week on such short notice. "What happened?"
Diego looked at the ground to refrain from snickering. "Nothing," he replied modestly. He knew everyone could tell he was lying and that something big had happened, but there was no way he was ever going to tell anyone his secret.
The secret where an ant had saved his life.
WHAT? TIGEY WIGEY HAS WRITTEN ANOTHER STORY IN LESS THAN A MONTH APART FROM HER PREVIOUS ONE? I must be ill.
But like I said in my Haunted Mountain story, I have temporarily escaped that dreaded writer's block. And so I decided to write this.
I know, I know, most of you are silently asking yourselves, why the heck did this maniac write this pointless story?
Well, I'll answer that. I think ants and other insects and bugs deserve way more respect than what they get now. They never do anything wrong, and so, they shouldn't be killed. Nothing should be killed for existing except for my siblings. Those morons deserve to get hit by a bus. But back to the point, I wrote this so that hopefully whoever reads this will develop a deeper understanding for animals like insects, an example being the ant. If you look at them the right way...they're pretty cool! They can't help being born, just like humans can't. (Uh...usually. For most of us it's a 'pleasant surprise.' For others, it's a 'why didn't you use that condom?')...(I dunno why I just wrote that. Or why I'm publishing it, too.) But anyways, like Dalai Lama said,
Our prime purpose in this life is to help others. And if you can't help them, at least don't hurt them.
Moral of story: see above. Please review! It's right below this! Don't be lazy now! ...(...please?...)... Ah, I'm pathetic.