Ruins

Let's go with a picture prompt this week:

 

Enjoy!

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My response:

She padded softly across the stone, the mossy surface damp under the pads of her feet.  She kept to the shadows, where she was less likely to be seen.  Hunting in the daytime was difficult for her.  The tall trees of the canopy cast long shadows over the jungle, but her prey had sharp eyes, and her shining black pelt shimmered in the light.  It was much easier in the dark.

But tonight she was hungry.  Only two cubs remained of the three she'd born half a moon ago.  They were so small and helpless, and they drained her strength from her with their own hunger.  She was exhausted, but she didn't dare rest out of sight of her den.  She wasn't the only shadow out hunting this day.

(I know this is shorter than my typical responses, but I'm going to exercise my right to say, nope, I'm not feeling this one.  Maybe it's because I haven't written anything anthropomorphic since elementary.  No offense to Kipling, I just don't think it's my thing.)