Excerpt: Mungai and the Goa Constrictor (2)

Unaware of the gazing sun’s effect on his recently discovered disguise, Mungai moved closer to the pack.

In the ever increasing heat of the second day, the dung had started to harden and began making a crackling sound as he moved. Each crunching, faltering step he took sounded like a predator crushing the bones of its prey. He thought the dung had made him invisible, but in trying to get closer, he was reminded of how highly tuned a wolf’s hearing was.

Sahba, chief wolf and council member of the Jungle Elders of Wolves and other Tooth and Claw, was instantly aroused. He immediately alerted the rest of the pack and then, with the same alacrity, collapsed laughing as he set eyes on Mungai. He could only take pity on him. Mungai was beyond description, or more to the point beyond Sahba’s description.

The only parts of Mungai still visible were his eyes and the tip of his nose, and up close the smell was surprisingly offensive to any beast. What’s more, the dung had baked his mouth shut. Excuses and pleas were out of the question. He was so completely matted in the stuff, he could barely move.