THE SYMPATHETIC MANTICORE
The Manticore awoke, stretching his muscular legs and yawning. Licking the blood of yesterday’s meals off his claws, he felt his stomach grumble. The huge lion-like body joined by a bulging neck to a human face belied the aggression in his heart. His strong tail curled making the venomous spines stand straight and 3 rows of sharp teeth completed the look. For the Manticore was a killer. Without mercy he would hunt and eat, never going without. 1000 pounds of bad attitude ensured that.
He left the cave, leaping to the top of the cliff and wandered into the forest. Hearing a bleat, he thought a lamb would do nicely for breakfast.
His cat-like instinct made him pause behind a bush, listening. He could hear a man talking and laughing. Although he feared nothing, he hesitated to attack man, they always fought back. Usually with a weapon which could inflict harm. He heard a strange sound, like a little human and realised that the man wasn’t alone.