A spear from the darkness of the jungle.
Only the skillful, timely dodge of a true warrior
Could avoid the sting of that projectile.
A figure emerges from the fog,
And lo, it is a dame,
But she is of the wild.
She, scantily clad in wilderness leaves,
In wild, white, war paint,
And little leather garments,
Chucks another spear.
A cheerful, seduced eye upon her
Will surely lose to the quick--
Javelin
That she throws again and--
Again.
She leans forward, advancing,
Her left arm, extended, hovers above the ground
Tracking the path of her prey,
Prey that thinks itself clever,
Prey that thinks itself
Civilized.
A belt of bones hugs her hips,
Hangs round her neck,
Hangs from her ears.
They bounce, clatter, clunk with every stride,
And each piece of ivory is its own story to tell,
So proudly she wears her trophies,
As if in jest to her latest prey,
As if she were some sort of
Hotshot--
Javelin.
It seems her weakness lies close quarters.
After a good strike or two she backs to the fog,
Whimpering like a--
Javelin.
But look she returns,
Eager and ready to fight,
As she mends her wounds in an aura
Of leaf-green primal surge.
She enters the dark jungle, movements screened by fog--
Javelin.
She prowls along the wild paths,
Hastened in tall grass where she finds easy footing.
This terrain is home to--
Javelin.
How can it be, that even in darkness,
Without aid of vision,
Her spears are accurate?
There must be, in every nook and cranny of this jungle,
Endless eyes concealed and hidden.
Endless bushwhack.
Javelin.
A wild beast approaches from the tall grass,
A belt of bones round its neck.
It pounces forward,
Swipes its razor claws,
And attempts to takedown its prey.
It melts back into the grass again--
Javelin
From the very same bushes.
Could it be? Lo, she emerges,
And once again cleanses her wounds with natural remedy.
She chucks a spear,
Leaps forward,
Transforming,
To that wild beast.
And once again,
In quick succession she
Pounces,
Swipes,
And takes down her foe.
Even the most ferocious warrior would,
At this very moment,
Turn tail, bleeding,
And return another day,
Better prepared to take on the--
Javelin.
| Version/Build | Date | Change(s) |
| v 1.0 |
June 11, 2014 | - |
| v0.3 | June 6, 2014 | - |
| v0.2 | June 6, 2014 | - |
| v0.1 | June 6, 2014 | - |
