The Chase

There was once
a leopard
who grew up
among a group of jaguars.

They ate together.
Slept together.
Hunted together.

For a while,
they looked
like a single family.

As they grew,
the leopard moved differently.

Faster. Lighter.

When they hunted,
he could reach first.

But he did not always.

He slowed.
Waited for the others.

Some catches were missed.

The best ones
were often just ahead
and gone
by the time they arrived.

When he moved faster,
he stood out.

When he waited,
he held back.

He could not do both.

So he stayed
with them.

And waited.

One day,
he ran farther
than before.

There was a group ahead.

They moved
as he did.

Fast.
Light.
Without pause.

As he came closer,
he saw their coats—
spotted,
like his.

He did not slow.
He ran
with them.

No one waited.
No one fell behind.

The ground moved
the same way
under all of them.

The chase stretched farther.

The catches came sooner.

He had never known
the fastest ones
tasted this way.

For the first time,
he did not choose
between speed
and staying.

And this time,
he did not slow down.