“I’m not a coward.” Deacon’s voice echoed off the mountain side.
“Then prove it.”
Wynn shifted, hoping against hope he wasn’t signing his death warrant.
The cat watched for Deacon’s next move, every muscle taut in anticipation. He roared in elation when a jaguar stood on the other ledge, the rifle falling when Deacon shifted, bouncing off the ledge into the forest below.
The jaguar sprang, landing on the cave ledge just inches from the white cat, and the battle began. Lips drew back to reveal vicious fangs, claws extended, raking flesh, tearing deep gashes through fur. The jaguar had the upper hand for a moment, biting deeply into the white cat’s shoulder. The white cat screamed in pain and rage, shaking the jaguar loose. The jaguar stumbled away, two feet missing the edge of the ledge. It fell, scrabbling for a hold in the rocks below. The white cat leapt, its sharp claws tearing into the jaguar’s back as it snarled angrily.