Sunrise saw the little four year old cowering in a corner, the farthest place he could get away from his parents' mutilated bodies, a trail of bloody paw prints the only hint at the nature of the attack in the small dark hours of morning. Their terrified screams from the leopard's attack caught in the cracks between the floorboards and got trapped on the splintered ends of a few planks not quite long enough to meet the roof at another corner. Two spent bullets rolled around in the breeze slithering under the windowpane and unseen cracks in the walls of the house in the tree, a cruel reminder of his parents' valiant attempts to kill the cat before it killed them—or worse still, their only son. A blue blanket lay crumpled over his feet—the same blanket his parents had thrown over him—with a stern "stay still!" and a quick, "I love you"—and he guessed it must have worked, for the leopard had eventually left, leaving the boy an orphan in a jungle where, as far as he knew, no other human existed. And now he was alone and the leopard still alive, the blood of its kill dyeing its muzzle. No, not its first, for the boy could have sworn the leopard already had the blood of a kill on its lips even before it attacked his hapless mama and papa.

As the sun rose above the unseen horizon, the shadows of leaves, vines, and branches played over the bodies of his parents, drawing, inexorably, his attention again to them, dried, black, choking blood soaking the floor under them. Bile rose in his throat, but he swallowed it back down, despite his nauseous, twisting stomach. And it only got worse when he knew that now he would have been breakfasting by now with mama and papa in the silhouette of their tree, had they still be alive.

But now, in the overwhelming presence of his deceased parents, he never felt less hungry in his life. He wanted to run, to get out of here, but both fear and uncertainty paralysed him. His heart convinced him the leopard was still lying in wait, right outside the door. It could come in any time to eat his mama and papa—or even him! Should he look out a window—the quickest of peeps? He would be so quick the leopard wouldn't even see him looking out. His parents always said he was the bravest boy in the world.

Kicking the blanket off his feet, he stood up as quiet as possible, but froze when he heard something outside—was it the leopard coming back?

Be brave for mama and papa.

He tried to find anything, anything he could use to try and defend himself. Or maybe he could try to yell as loud as he could to scare it. He had sometimes, when exploring the jungle with his parents, seen gorillas thump their chests to scare off a rival—maybe that would work, if he did it with as much might as he could.

He tip-toed back against the wall, toward the nearest window, hands coming up to grasp the sill to pull himself up a bit more. Going past his parents' bodies, he breathed through his mouth, the scent of dried blood clogging his nostrils with its sharp odour, his stomach twisting again with the raw reminder of what had happened mere hours before.

A really, really, really quick peek, and I'll see if the leopard's there.

But all he could see was down, down into the jungle, and yet, still the spine tingling sensation that something was nearby tickled the back of his neck. Still staring down into the foliage below, he froze on hearing the door begin to creak open. He knew without turning around that something was behind him, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling again.

I'm a brave boy, I can face the leopard.

Taking in the deepest breath he could, the boy spun around from the window, scurrying behind some fallen furniture that had toppled in his parents' and the leopard's struggle hours before. He peeped out, standing on tip-toes to get a closer look at whatever was coming inside, and gasped in surprise on seeing what exactly it was.

For the creature standing in the doorway was no leopard. He instantly recognised the creature as one of the gorillas that lived in the jungle's depths—he thought this one was a female, judging by her more diminutive size in comparison to the Silverbacks he had spotted every now and then. He watched as she sniffed around her, eyes taking in the room, her expression equal parts cautious and curious. She didn't seem to be too threatening so far as she walked inside with slow caution, the knuckles of her hands pressing into wood as she entered the tree house. Sensing that perhaps she would not harm him, he edged around the furniture, still cautious, still watching her every move, just in case he needed to be brave. He grew still when she froze herself. Her wandering eyes looked more confused as she turned her head in his direction, maybe having heard his feet padding around on the floor. She uttered the softest of hoots in his direction, and then stopped as if listening for a response in kind. Now that he had a proper look at her face, he recognised her as one of the gorillas he had seen a few times before, but something seemed…off. He didn't know why he thought she looked maybe a bit sad today—maybe he saw it in her eyes or—

He wondered why she didn't have her little baby on her back today as she always did whenever he'd seen her in the troop on his walks with his parents.

"Hello?" The boy whispered, and she grew still again, "I'm here."

When he emerged from the shadows, maybe a little sudden for the gorilla for she flinched, stepping back in surprise, one of her hands accidentally hitting a photo frame that had smashed on the ground in last night's tussle. Both human and gorilla eyes roamed to it, the boy noticing it for the first time since he'd woken up. He moved forward slowly, trying not to be too sudden in his movements, not wanting to frighten her, eyes trained on the photo frame. Now close enough to see it properly, he recognised it as the cherished photograph of his parents with him as a baby. It was his parents' favourite photo and they had kept it in its most special place by a window, undisturbed before the leopard's arrival, breaking the peace forever.

Inching a little closer, he waited to see if she would flinch away again, but it seemed the photo had all her attention right now, mouth close to the frame as her eyes peered at every detail. He moved a hand to touch the corner of the frame, pointing to his mum and dad in the picture.

"Leopard," he whispered, "Took them."

Did she understand him? The boy wondered if she had, her eyes meeting his for a moment, and now he really did see she looked a bit sad, as though something bad had happened to her. He pulled the photo frame toward him a little, pointing to the baby.

"Me," he told her, pointing from the picture to his own chest, before he indicated the corner where his fallen parents lay. He couldn't bear to look over at them, "They are…" he shuddered, arms coming up to wrap around his chest, "They won't wake up again."

Peeking at her again, he observed how her eyes trailed from the photograph to the corner where his parents lay. She leaned forward on her front limbs, lowering herself as if to take a closer look at the two bodies that lay unmoving with the trail of smudged paw prints belying the leopard's former presence. Then, she cried out, stumbling backwards into something behind her, eyes wide and frightened, unwavering from the trail of leopard's paw prints. One of her arms reached up to her back as though to grab a youngster there, and froze for a moment, her whole countenance seeming to sag, lowering her hand to stare at her palm for a few moments as though expecting to be holding something there. The boy stared, unspeaking, as she then brought her closed hand to her chest, over where her heart would be, her eyes lowered, expression seeming mournful. Even the little boy could not miss this, and he remembered again the already bloodied muzzle of the leopard last night, and he shuddered. Maybe he hadn't imagined that at all—perhaps the leopard really had killed something before it stalked his mama and papa.

Is that why she is sad? Is it why her baby's not with her?

Trusting now that she didn't mean any harm—she could easily have hurt him a few different ways by now if she had wished to—the boy padded over toward her, trying to not frighten her. Only when he was but a couple feet from her, then she looked up again at him, lowering her hand back to the floor, eyes locking with his. He stopped still, whispering assurances, that he wasn't going to hurt her, that he trusted she wouldn't hurt him.

"You'll keep me safe won't you?" he whispered, "I know you won't hurt me at all, will you?"

The boy reached a hand to the gorilla, palm up, smiling despite himself, showing he already trusted her. He'd always thought they looked like rather peaceful creatures, and she looked peaceful enough to him. He didn't dare move as she reached out her own large hand with its long palm and short, curved-over fingers to take his. Her hand was so large his whole hand and lower arm easily fit in her grasp as she raised his limb as if to examine it more closely with an unhidden curiosity in her expression. Then, with a tug, eliciting a yelp of surprise from him, even though he could feel she meant no harm, she pulled him off his feet, sniffing at him the way an animal might when coming across something—or someone—strange and unusual. Her grip was firm enough that he knew he couldn't wriggle out if he'd wanted to, but not so tight as to cause discomfort or pain.

Now the gorilla sat down on her haunches, one of her feet coming up under him. She lowered him down until he sat on the underside of her upturned foot. She sat back, still curious, making a few little noises of curiosity as she looked him over, her hand coming forward to grasp one of his own feet, looking at it as she turned his leg from side to side. Looking down at her foot, the boy noticed for the first time how similar her hands and feet really were, as though she really had four, and not two, hands. Even her toes were opposable, unlike his own very much human big toes. He looked down at his hands, then hers, seeing how similar they looked to each other. Her fingers were a lot shorter and stubbier to be sure, and her thumb was set farther down a much longer palm, but it struck him as so much like his own in many ways that he couldn't help but reach out and grasp one of her fingers, tugging her hand toward him. She let him tug on her hand, turning it over, so her palm now faced him. Looking closely, he saw similar lines to his own on both their palms. Turning his hand over, he touched his own palm to hers, unable to help but feel some connection between them, transcending species. It was as though in some ways they were a little like the other.

Looking up, he could see that some of the sadness in her face had seemed to melt away, something warmer and a little happier in her eyes. He couldn't help but smile himself, and he was sure her eyes smiled even more in response too. Already he could feel some of his sorrow and fear begin to ebb away—

Only for the hairs on the back of his neck to prickle, a chill running down his spine. Something unseen was in the room—and he was sure the gorilla sensed it too, for he saw her tensing, eyes wandering up to look at the rafters of the tree house, and not a second later, she had grabbed him into her arms as a leopard's roarclawed steel chills into the depths of his bones. He had a split second's glimpse of a blur of yellow and black fur and outstretched, deadly claws before his face was buried in the fur of the gorilla's shoulder as she clutched him, running for some escape. He could feel his heart—or was it hers—hammering against his chest as she cried out in terror, her body moving around him as she ran for escape, as if to try to save him from the leopard—he hoped she was anyway, and somehow he trusted that the gorilla was trying to save him from certain death.

His fingers clenched tight to her fur, shifting his face to the side just enough to see what was going on, just in time to watch as she leaped onto the trunk of the tree that partially pushed into the room, and he could see the room swinging around him as she grabbed hold of the light fixture, swinging them toward the nearest window, the cat hot on her heels. He thought he should have slipped off, but she had a good grip on him with her firm arm as she sprinted toward a curtain, swinging from it toward the nearest exit—a window. The cat lashed out, snarling as she tried to untwist herself from the fabric, tearing it into shreds. He tried to squirm in her arm for a better look, but she had him in a stronger grasp than he thought she did. He watched as they edged toward the corner of the roof, they were going to be cornered, how could they escape now? He opened his mouth to scream when the cat, looking triumphant, leaped toward her, claws outstretched, body long and sleek as she stretched toward her trapped pray—

The little boy felt the sleek heat of the predator as she collided full-bodied into them, sending them flying backwards through the wall, their combined weight collapsing the wood that broke away under them, falling toward the earth far below. The gorilla twisted around to try and get away from Sabor in mid-air, slipping backward with the boy in her grip, with nothing now but blue sky above and the open air around them as they fell toward—he didn't want to know how far down they were falling, squeezing his eyes shut, waiting for the impact that would kill them, and then the cat would have her feast at last.

After a fall that felt like it lasted forever, he gasped in surprise as he felt his fall broken not by hard earth but by the stretchy material of the cloth shading the circular balcony below the tree house. He yelled in horror as the leopard landed practically on top of him, and at the same time felt the gorilla lose her grip completely on him, and he scrabbled to try and get away from the big cat, legs slipping and sliding as the two animals fought, so dangerously close to him. He tried to think of something to try and distract the leopard, but came up with nothing—and he didn't want the gorilla to be killed, but what could he do, strangle the leopard? He had no weapon on him—no stones, no knives, not anything but his own strength, and what was that compared to the cat who had overcome both his parents in one night?

He yelled in surprise as he felt fabric tear and break away as the leopard slashed at fabric already stretched beyond its limits by the weight of the tussling creatures. His arms windmilled through the air before he impacted face first with an "oof!" on the verandah below. Sensing the big cat above him, he rolled away on instinct, looking up in time to see the leopard ensnaring one of the gorilla's feet in its teeth. He scrambled up to his feet, to do just what to the cat he didn't know, but something—he didn't want the gorilla hurt, but even now he saw one of her hands shoot up to grab the cat about its throat, right under its jaw, squeezing its neck so tight the boy was sure it would die. It struggled to get out of the gorilla's grip, desperate to get free, to breathe again. He could have escaped right now, this would have been the perfect time, but he wasn't ready to leave the gorilla alone. If only he could have something to help, but if his parents couldn't kill it, then how could a little boy like him even try to come near its claws, let alone its teeth?

Finally, the leopard managed to slash its claws deep into the side of the gorilla's face, successfully distracting her enough to let go of the cat's throat. Now free from the primate's throttle, the cat swung its big head in the boy's direction, skulking low with intense concentration in its eyes. There was only one thing to do but run—maybe he could find somewhere to jump on to that would not hurt him, that would not be so far down as to kill him on impact. Sprinting as fast as his little legs could, he tried to run from the cat, get a head start on it before it could catch him. Where was his escape? He had to find an escape! Where could he—

And he spotted it in time, the boat hanging from the rope and pulley on the veranda, close enough that he was pretty confident he could make the leap into it. If he was quick enough, he would pull on the rope in the right way to make it go down as fast as possible. The cat was so close, so close behind him—

And once again, another yowl of surprise, a quick breeze ruffling his hair as the cat's huge paw barely missed him, before there was a thump like a weight had thrown itself onto the leopard. He stopped running long enough to look over his shoulder to see the gorilla had the cat in a full body hold, her arms wrapped tight around its middle, wrestling it down to the ground until it stopped moving, its whole body falling limp as it passed out from having the breath squeezed out of her.

"Boat!" he shouted, pointing behind him, "It'll take us down! Can you jump?"

He tried to make frantic arm movements, gesturing until the gorilla seemed to understand what he wanted. Maybe she did, as she began to run in his direction, her hand grabbing him around a forearm as she leaped with him into the boat, breath knocked out of the both of them as they landed smack inside it, the gorilla's weight helping the pulley release enough of the rope's length as they swung and fell down toward the bridge that crossed the river far below. He pushed himself up from the bottom of the boat, turning over to look up at the veranda only to see that the rope had coiled itself around the cat's feet and body, yanking it up toward the pulley's mechanism, the leopard snarling as it tried to disentangle itself to no avail.

The boat jumped up and down, swinging again as it hit the end of its length, a couple metres above the ground. The boy scrambled to his feet to look over its side, only for the gorilla's arm to pull him away a second later, holding on to him as they leaped out of the boat to safe ground. She stopped just long enough to let him climb onto her back, lying down in her soft fur, gripping with his fingers, not wanting to slip off as she ran onto the swing bridge, going only a few metres before turning back around to look back at the leopard still fighting to get out of its entanglement. To his surprise, the gorilla let loose a deep snarl, and from his vantage point, he really saw for the first time just how fierce and large her canines really were. But these canines were not directed at him, but at the cat still struggling far, far above them. Closing her mouth, she gave one last vocalisation as she nodded firmly up at the leopard, before resuming the rest of her trek to the other side of the river, the boy still clinging on to her back, his body relaxing as he, for the first time since the small dark hours of morning, he let his fear go, now unafraid in the protection of the female gorilla who had saved him from certain death.

"Thank you," he said aloud, and she stopped, growing still at his voice, "for saving me."

The gorilla stopped in her tracks, whole body still for a second before she reached an arm up to take his hand in hers, clasping his forearm in a gentle hold. Had she understood what he'd said? Or had she heard the gratefulness in his words and understood nonetheless? She didn't let go of his arm, fingers wrapped around his wrist, even when they made it on safe soil on the other side of the bridge, her touch so warm and compassionate he could feel it soak into his bones, washing away the last of his wariness, leaving only trust behind.

"I trust you," he whispered, "because you saved me."

A soft vocalisation from the gorilla, only making him wish all the more that he could understand what she was saying. Yet, somehow he had a feeling he knew what she was trying to tell him, and he trusted that she was right.

He trusted that he would be safe now, as long as he was with her. As long as he was under her protection and love, he trusted that he would be safe, that there was no more need to be afraid of the dark or of the leopard's return.

Now he would have a home and a mother's love again.