[A guitar, a poacher and a rare animal.]

The two things Kenny loved doing was hunting and strumming the guitar.

But Kenny was no ordinary hunter. His targets were exotic animals, and his boss made sure they were sold at exorbitant prices. He never understood what actually goes through the minds of the affluent and their weird taste in fashion, but as long as he accrue his pay check and saved him from poverty he wasn't going to complain.

Today, he picked up his possessions-gun, camping bag, guitar and survival essentials- before venturing out into the woods beside the inn he had chosen to sojourn before leaving for his task.

The trek through the greens was filled with the rustling of leaves against the light evening zephyr and the chirps of birds as they gyrated about to retire to their nest for the day. The soles of his boots crunched against the shrivelled leaves as he weaved in and out of the moss-covered lands.

The sun was sinking steadily; its rays no longer filtering through the gaps of the canopy overhead and overlapped the world with a raven sky. Kenny eventually took out his flashlight and continued further into the dense forest.

Just then, there was a soft hum of engine on the path below. Kenny quickly switched off his light and ducked behind a boulder.

The yellow headlights temporarily blinded his vision as a safari truck rumbled by. He briefly caught a glimpse of two forest rangers inside, most likely doing a last survey before they shut the tourism gates for the day. Usually there would be night safaris going on, but the deep, wilder parts of the forest were forbidden. And that was where Kenny was headed.

Once the small truck disappeared out of sight, Kenny proceeded without much falter.

About an hour or so later, he had finally spotted a tree with thick branches where he could set his temporary (hidden) camp. Tapping the trunk to chase away any insects or animals, he could only grin in satisfaction at his luck when nothing appeared. He scaled the trunk up to reach a pair of branches he could tie his hammock in between and settled down for the moment.

When night truly fell and no rangers were in sight, only did he descend and begin scouting about.

One of the downsides of being a poacher was everything you did had to be discreet, which meant night time and as little light as possible, which also meant more unforeseen dangers lurking in the unknown. But Kenny had been doing this for almost a decade, so the odds of him surviving more than a night in the wilderness was pretty solid.

However, sometimes, even the maven can make rookie blunders.

There was a sudden rustle to his right. He swung his gun. Through the night vision scope, only the shadows of long, wavy grass filled his vision.

There was another rustle to his left, then to his front. There were noises from all directions.

His heart was thumping with a rush of adrenaline. He poised his gun forward as he subconsciously took a few steps back-

Something crashed into his heel. He jumped. There was the creaks of metal, then a pained yelp broke the light hums of the forest song.

Kenny wheeled around and pointed his gun to see something squirming beneath the patch of grass. Gingerly, he nudged past the long strands to peer at the source through his scope.

It was a pangolin caught in the jaws of a trap- one he would've fallen victim to if he had kept backing up. The pangolin was on its sides, thrashing for release as low, harrowing cries escaped it. Black liquid leaked down its scale back from where the claws had buried themselves into the softer flesh.

At first, Kenny thought he had hit the jackpot. Pangolins were highly yearned by the market for their sophisticated taste of meat and medicinal values for their scales. But as Kenny freed the injured animal and held it in his calloused hands, a sudden pang of realisation hit him.

If it weren't for the pangolin, he would've gotten his ankle snared into the trap. In some sense, the pangolin had saved him.

He could almost burst out laughing at his hypocrisy. He, a poacher who has murdered hundreds of innocent lives, feeling human again just because his prey had indirectly saved him?

He scoffed. Whatever. He wasn't expecting to yield a prey this quick, and there was no harm in treating it. And so, he took the pangolin back to his camp to treat its wounds.

As he cleaned the blood off its body, he couldn't help but admire the creature in all its glory. The waves of metallic brown scales rippling across its back as it curled up into a ball, to which he could easily pry open due to its wounds. Its black, doleful eyes scrutinised his every movement as he proceeded to disinfect and bandage its injury. Upturned, the soft, fragile white meat it hid was exposed, its small clawed feet squirming as it felt the foreign object coiling around its sensitive area.

Kenny couldn't help but view it not as a food or tool, but as another exquisite art of mother nature. His coaxes for the pangolin to stay still became a mere haze as he sank into his thoughts.

He had never done anything other than harm animals. From young, when all he knew was to barely scrap by for the day, the seed of abhorrence towards the opulent had germinated till this day. They never gave a damn about others, only seeing the gold in front of them and because they held so much money, they thought they were entitled to do anything they desired without contemplating the fate of those they mowed along their way to victory.

Now, he realised, his jaundice was ironic, as he himself was, too, stealing lives to make money for himself.

Perhaps, this was the nature of all living beings. To kill or be killed, or among the "civilised", victors write history, losers are left forgotten in the dust.

If he had really abhorred the rich, why wasn't he trying to overthrow them by opposition, instead being complacent by serving to feed their greed?

A small chuckle slipped from his lips. This wasn't trying to survive. It was trying to hide.

And so, once he finished helping the pangolin, he also knew what he had to do.

He placed the pangolin in his hammock that sank under its weigh. It scrambled around, trying to get its bearings. Kenny smirked.

"Hol' on a while longer, lil' guy," his voice was raspy from the long silence, as he reached for his guitar case. "I've got somethin' special for ya."

And he began to play, a soft melody that danced to the tune of the forest and weaved with the voices of the woods.

Not long after, lights shone from below.

"Hey! You're not supposed to be here. You are arrested for trespassing into the conservation as an unregistered visitor, so surrender yourself, and come down now."

With a triumphant smirk, Kenny dropped his gun, obviously startling the guys below.

"Yo. I've got somethin' interesting for y'all, but don't tell my boss who leaked 'em."

♧[31/5/2020]♧

HALLEHUJAH IM DONE