Deciding to make it swift, I pounced like a starving animal, my eyes locked onto his prey with unyielding focus.
The wild boar, oblivious to the imminent danger, continued to forage, its snout buried deep in the underbrush.
The silence of the jungle, a stark contrast to the storm brewing within me, was about to be shattered.
With the grace and ferocity of a predator, I closed the distance, my movements a blur to any onlooker.
The boar, sensing the shift too late, raised its head, its instincts kicking in.
But the wild, desperate gleam in its eyes met only the cold determination in mine.
As I went straight for the jugular of the beast, his combat knife, an extension of my will, sliced through the beast's hairy throat with surgical precision.
The blade, honed to perfection, dissected its arteries, unleashing a crimson flood that stained the verdant floor of Jungoria.
