Jaguar Night

Chimalli had feasted and danced on the eve of battle, knowing full well it might be for the final time.

He left at dawn with the others, vowing to win their Jaguar skins or not return. Now, kneeling in the dark night, wind skirling the scrub trees, Chimalli knew for the first time what fear truly was.

This story was written for the weekly flash fiction 55 Word Challenge hosted by my wife, Lisa McCourt Hollar and with artwork by Erik Gustafson.