Cheetah Story (critique/feedback)

[Fire Opal]

This is a new story I've been working on recently. Critique and feedback is wanted! I've got more to post if you're interested. P.S., this is just the first chapter, I've got the rest of the story all planned out and I think it will be very interesting! {all story/text/ideas copyright Fire Opal}

She was tired. It had been a lengthy and difficult birth, even with all the wiry strength she possessed. Thus she lay panting in the cool, dark confines of the den, beginning the slow recovery. At last she stirred to lap at the three bundles of squirming fur at her belly, and her fatigue eased away, replaced by the instinctual strength found in all mothers. Vigorously she licked them clean, her movements driven by the intuition the good Lord had given her. The little ones squeaked, in pitifully feeble cries. All were healthy.
She rested for an hour more in that safe refuge, until dawn cast a pale light on the skies. At this moment she stood, stepped delicately around her young and moved out into the great wide world.
Emerging from the rock den, one could now see what they could not inside the dark chamber. She was a cat, a great, tall one, with golden fur and amber eyes which gleamed with primitive intelligence. Her luxurious coat was velvet-smooth, and spattered with regular black dots. She was thin, lean, and long-legged, almost fragile by looks. She was what we would call a “Cheetah,” and she was Asian, not African, by blood. She had no name, but for the purposes of this story, we shall call her Mehry; for the golden color of her coat, which mimics the sun’s rays. And her cubs shall be named Atash, Aram, and Raha; the meanings of which you shall discover later on.
The cat turned her fine head, her amber eyes taking in her dry surroundings. Arid Iranian desert faced her, edged by great rocky hills, lonesome plains, and a few thickets of scorched trees. A cold, winter wind swept across the familiar landscape; a pleasant relief from the hotter seasons. Mehry’s nostrils swelled, as she tested the cool wind. No scent of jackal, elusive leopard, or fox tainted the breeze. And most importantly, no pungent human scent.
Mehry turned and sank back into the den.

[wolfgirl159357]

OOOOhhh go on!

[Fire Opal]

And so the three cubs grew, and Mehry proved to be a fine mother; watchful, protective, and devoted to her newborns. Their little eyes opened, and they became stronger. But Mehry grew anxious. She just had feeling that they were not safe, and driven by her need the mother picked up each cub and walked a good distance to The Gorge. This was a large ravine, bordered by desert trees and brush, and marked by an occasional trickle of water. It was a hot spot for wandering creatures, and thus perhaps not the best place for Mehry’s defenseless family, but she was a first-time mother and it was a place she was familiar with. So the cheetah carried her squeaking cubs, one by one, to The Gorge; and she placed them under a narrow overhang, concealed in scrub, in the shade.
For the few weeks that followed, Mehry remained vigilant, perhaps even nervous, but her wariness was well-designed. Happily the little family remained untouched by hungry predators, and Mehry continued her routine. This was to nurse her cubs and rest during the night hours, and in the morning she would begin the hunt. She chased Jebeer and Goitered Gazelle, which ran the plains and thickets. Being short-winded, Mehry was forced to stalk her prey up close, which increased the danger of it picking up her scent, sound, or movement. But Mehry was incredibly fast, as all of her kind are, and once the chase began she harried her prey at its heels. It dived to and fro, in crazy twists, but if all went well Mehry would miss not a beat and in the end she had her gazelle firmly grasped by the throat. Success only came about half of the time, often leaving Mehry panting on the ground with no such prize. Still, when it came Mehry could feed and live well, and if she ate fast the scavengers would have few pickings left.
The cubs continued to grow, but they were still very small, small enough to fit in the palm of a human hand. Mehry felt it was time for them to eat meat, which would provide them with what they needed to become big and healthy. At first the cubs refused, but at last they came to the right age and nibbled at the bits of rodents which were brought into the den. Not long after making this developmental step, Mehry grew again anxious and tense. The same feelings of insecurity haunted her day and night, until again she picked up each cub and moved them. Their life at the Gorge was rich with plentiful shade, small prey creatures, and a steady trickle of water. But God-given instinct moved Mehry to take her brood somewhere else, to keep their hiding place inconspicuous and secret. This trek was the longest so far; she moved past the Rock Den, and at last settled at the foot of a rising ridge. In a patch of deep brush, surrounded by the stony base of the ridge, Mehry hid her three cubs. From here it was only a short distance to the plains, which held the gazelle Mehry needed to survive. The cheetah mother knew not, but this position would later allow her to take her cubs on hunts without exhausting them. This would be their final den.

[SomebodyDude]

GO ON!

[Fire Opal]

The cubs indeed grew on their new diet of meat and milk, although they remained ravenous as ever. As their age doubled, they grew lively and playful and curious. Their characters began to emerge. Atash, named for fire, was strong-tempered and stubborn. Aram, his brother, was meek and quiet, so he was named. Raha, the only female, was as feisty as Atash, but was observant and clever in ways the two brothers were not.
At their age, the cheetah cubs were now able to emerge from the den and learn more about the outside world. Upon coming back from a hunt, Mehry would chirp to her cubs, and they would rush forward from the den and swarm her with smaller, higher chirps. Then Mehry would lay down and purr, as the cubs climbed all over her, and pounced on her tail and scuffled amongst each other. Soon there was no need to leave them unprotected at the den, and Mehry would have them follow her on her daily expedition for food.
That time did arrive, when Mehry called them and beckoned them to stay close. This they did, filing out in a neat line behind her, as the mother cheetah sought the grassy plains. The cubs were young, but even at their age they knew they had one supreme mission: to survive. So they clung to Mehry as she led them into a new world of tall grass and wide open skies. All of a sudden Mehry froze, and snapped her tail. At this moment Atash, Aram, and Raha drew back and sank into the grass. Without speaking, they knew that they were to hide. All the cubs watched as Mehry seemed to change; her steps became impossibly light, her movements precise, her body completely rigid. Her eyes never moved once as she stalked, and then froze again. With a sudden spring Mehry went into motion. There was a terrible squeal, and Raha and the others couldn’t help their fur from raising. A minute later, Mehry chirped. Raha came running, eager to see what had made the squeal. Her brothers were not far behind. Upon reuniting with Mehry, Raha discovered a scrap of fur held motionless in her paws. She approached with caution, ears flicked back, eyes on the alert. Mehry chirped again, encouraging her cubs to come forth. Raha jumped in bounds, and sniffed curiously at the body, which was bigger than herself but smelled strongly of food.
And so the family ate the hare which the mother had caught, and all the cubs- especially Raha- learned what it meant to hunt.