praedatorius

“Run! Run!” Peter took off, running on all fours, the splash of river water hitting his heels and the roar of crocodiles ringing in his ears. “Come, on! Come on!” he laughed. “We made it!” “We done made it!” screamed Ham. “We made it,” Oop giggled. “We bloody made it!” Chim squealed. They found a tall tree and immediately scampered up the top. Peter was slow, but he gripped the trunk with his hands and feet and made his way to the top. “Hey, Pete!” Ham laughed. “You better climb a mite faster, otherwise, you’re gonna be crocodile chow.” “He’s gaining on ya!” laughed Oop. “Take your time,” Chim giggled. “He’s only got about five dozen teeth.” Peter climbed up onto the branch and looked down. There were crocodiles on the ground, peering up at him with their dark, beady eyes. They hissed as they reached the base of the tree, unable to climb it thanks to their short, stubby legs. They hissed a little bit longer as they circled the trunk, daring the monkeys to come back down, but

Corporal LaVerre had been a soldier long enough to know when an attack was coming. There had been whispers of it all over camp. Artillerymen were stockpiling shot and powder. Reinforcements had arrived. The camp was carefully guarded. Surgeons were sharpening their knives. Sooner or later, Prince Charming would volunteer the regiment to lead the attack. He had been drilling them constantly, inspecting them incessantly, and even training them to climb over walls for some lunatic attack that only made sense in the Prince’s young, glory-hungry heart. He was just the kind of man to get everyone killed, and he’d be commended for doing so. So, early that morning, before the sun had even come up, LeVerre wasn’t surprised at all when the regiment was called up to the front. This is the attack, he groaned, putting on his uniform. He gathered his gear, shouldered his musket, and fell in with the other, still practically asleep, keeping his eyes closed as they waited for Prince Charming to