Bunjil

Context: Currently writing this from within my in-laws holiday cabin in the Grampians Mountains, Victoria. The views from the windows and the first nations story of the place (https://www.visitgrampians.com.au/see-do/culture/gariwerd-creation-story) fit this week's prompt perfectly. Not to mention my partners insistence that there's a mysterious animal out there somewhere...

They didn’t believe her. Not a single one of them. It was insulting. Asha's anger flared, and she growled as she was abruptly forced to take a longer stride than usual. It interrupted both her fast pace and her racing thoughts, to skip over the large stick that was strewn across the narrow dirt track. Red gum was not a forgiving wood. It would never have yielded to her boots, so its sharp ends were best avoided. She picked up her speed again, scanning left and right through the widely space trees, frantically looking for any movement. She would prove it. She would wipe the smiles from all their faces. She held her camera at the ready, taking its weight from the strap upon her neck in a tense grip, and ignoring the line of sweat that had budded beneath. She was afraid that if she released it for even a second, she would miss her chance. Asha took a diversion around sheets of bark that littered the way, barely giving the trees snake-like shedding a second glance. It was only a strange sight to those who had not grown up exploring the forests. She was a grown woman, she would make them listen to her. They needed to stop treating her like a child. Her feet pounded on, trying to pull her as quickly as possible back to the spot she had seen it the day before. Back along the paths that she knew by heart, after a lifetime of trailing. Back to where she had finally caught a glimpse, of the rumoured black panther.

A kookaburra laughed maniacally at Asha as she passed within its view. Its grey plumage was lost to human eyes against both the ashen tree trunks and pale stone that blurred the landscape. She added the vocal bird to the tally of non-believers. Her whole family had looked up from where they crowded around the life-giving air conditioner, their altar of relief on the ill-conceived mid-summer visit to the shared mountain cabin. She had burst in, so excited to spew her story, that she never stopped to consider that they might laugh. Not even her grandmother, who was always so open minded and understanding, had thought her tale worth moving from under the cool wind. A black cat, huge, bigger than even a normal panther should be. Asha had seen it so clearly, its muscled haunches slinking through the trees, with a tail that was as thick as her leg. True, she had not seen its face, but she considered that a blessing, in that it had not seen her either. But it was finally, without question, proof that all the rumours were true. She had seen it with her own eyes and knew now, there really was a big cat roaming the Grampians national park.

When a kangaroo leapt from the undergrowth as she passed, Asha nearly shed her own skin to match the gum bark that carpeted the ground. As her mind grasped what she was seeing, her muscles released in relief and she let out an embarrassed chuckle. It was large, but harmless and as common as the salt bush it had been shading under. She watched it bounce away into the untamed expanse and considered, that perhaps sticking to the path was her problem. Most animals shied away from the main tourist trap areas, almost as much as Asha did herself. Why should she assume a creature as secretive as a panther would be waiting for her like an exhibit beside the track? With a nod that dropped her long, dark hair over one shoulder, she made the decision. She checked her water flask and tightened the laces of her worn boots, closing the gap between the leather and her ankles. The intense summer sun that ravaged Australia in December would bring with it the chance of snakes and other nasties that were best denied access to her socks. She pulled out her phone and made sure it had plenty of battery. The signal wasn’t strong but it was there, as expected. It usually worked around Chatauqua peak. She took a few test shots, to triple check that her camera was ready, and finally, Asha tied up her hair. Rather than giving her any relief, it only focused the suns heat on the skin of her neck. The khaki shorts and light shirt she wore couldn’t release the heat from her body either, and as she had come to accept of her home country, it was something that just had to be borne. Feeling as prepared as she could be, she stepped from the open line of dirt that constituted safety.

It was an hour later, after choosing a direction at random, that Asha saw it. Nothing but a dark patch between two branches. She thought it a trick of the light, until it shook and twitched under the feet of a fly. She dropped into a crouch and raised her camera lens, fully expecting a wallaby with a dark coat to come sniffing out from its hiding place. The tails movement, hitched her breath. It flicked, in the way that only a cats could. It was no stiff, thudding thing that the lumbering marsupials carried around. She waited, trying desperately to keep herself still and quiet. When it finally stepped into view, she almost screamed in delight. Not an inch of fear crossed her mind and it was only habit that suppressed the sound, and kept her hidden. Even when its head snapped to the side to regard her, she only smiled. It had a glossy, shining black coat, stood taller than seemed possible, and was undeniably the animal she had been looking for. Asha’s finger trembled as it depressed the shutter of her camera, her eyes dropping to the LCD screen as subtlety as possible, needing to see what she had recorded. Her photograph was of empty forest. She darted her gaze upward. It was gone.

Asha held back a roar of frustration and instead crept forward. It had to be close by. She slid silently through the interlaced spiked shrubs that dotted the under brush, ignoring their bite. Until she reached where the predator had been standing a moment before. She caught movement. Whipping her head to the side, she saw the living shadow disappear once more behind a fallen tree. She followed as quickly as she dared, having to remind herself often that his was a dangerous animal and to take care. Her heart told her it was not a threat, but her head knew otherwise. Twice more she captured only glimpses, followed by the slightest rustle of leaves. Her own progress was far more clumsy, filled with stumbles and increasingly blurred vision from the ever oppressive heat. The backs of her hands and bare legs were showing lines of red that told of numerous thorns and she was beginning to worry about the distance between her and the cabin. She went on anyway.

The third time she saw the beast, it leapt upward into full view, padding softly on enormous paws onto one of many large, rounded boulders that rose from the earth ahead. She circled it at ground level, not daring to meet the predator on unsure footing by climbing up, but trying desperately to find an angle the camera could see. On the other side of the immense stone, she came into a clearing surrounded by similar rocks. It was like a natural amphitheatre, with a sheer drop on the only clear side. The view across the valley beyond was breathtaking from her vantage on the side of the peak, but it was not what made her stop dead in her tracks. Atop another large stone, looking outward into the open air, was a man.

“You lookin’ for somethin’, girl? This not your place.” He said in a strong, deep voice. He did not so much as flinch from where he sat cross legged, staring out over the forests below. It was impossible for him to have known she was there, or who she was, except by the sound of her approach. She fidgeted, feeling disconcerted at how much he had gleaned from her footsteps. His skin was as dark as the panther's coat and his shoulder length grey hair was tidy on the back of his head. He wore little but a wrap around his waist, and was instead covered in white painted symbols. Waves of lines and circles that built a familiar pattern. Aboriginal, in every way.

“I, uh, sorry…I didn’t mean to bother you…I’ll go…” Asha said. She had never spoken with someone from the first nations. She didn’t know how to. More than that, she was afraid that if she said she was chasing a panther, he would laugh at her too.

“That Gariwerd, not for you. You not belong there. You gotta be careful one” He replied. Asha’s resolve hardened. No matter what name you gave them, the mountains of the Grampians had raised her. No one could tell her she didn’t belong to them.

“I know my place just fine, thank you.” She snapped and turned to walk away, hoping the sound of their voices had not destroyed her chances of finding the cat again.

“You not missin’ one black cat, girl? That one not from you?” He said, the amusement dripping from his tone. She could hear the smile on his lips, even with their backs to one another. She couldn’t help but turn around.

“Did you see it!? Did it come through here?” She pleaded.

“In some way.” He said, finally standing and turning to face her. He picked up a long staff as he rose, carved in patterns that matched those on his skin. It was beautifully crafted red gum, and shone crimson in the afternoon light where it had been scored. When he laid eyes on her dishevelled, sweat soaked form, he paused and said, “Ya reckon da heat's gettin' ya? Not made for you dis sun.”

“I’m fine.” She barked, “The panther?”

“Oh. e’s 'round here somewheres.” He laughed.

“Please” Ashe begged. “I need to get a photo. It's the only thing that will prove that its real! It's the only thing that will make them see!”

“See what? A pic? Pics are all 'round now. In ya pocket, in da air, everywhere 'cept in ya eyes. C'mon here now, look at da pic I painted.” He said, gesturing enthusiastically for her to join him.

Asha hesitated. Like any people, there were good and bad seeds among the first nations. She had heard plenty of stories for either case, and at the end of the day, she was a girl alone, deep in the bush, with a strange man. There was no one for miles to hear her scream. He had a sense about him though. A calm, patient grace that did not insist, only invited. He allowed her time to decide, remaining still with his wide, green eyes fixed on her. Not in an intimidating way, but rather in a fatherly observation. He did not seem dangerous.

“Come, this place got big Dreamin’. You not regret, true one.” He said, offering out his hand. There was kindness in his gaze and a sincerity to his request. She decided, and stepped up onto the stone, hoping there was a panther to be seen beyond the rocks.

She took his outstretched hand and used it to scramble up the last step. When their skin touched, she felt a surge of energy through her palm. Suddenly the heat of the day lost its weight, the sting from the scratches on her legs eased and the ache in her limbs from the days pursuit soothed. She snatched her hand away in surprise, but he showed no offence, only gestured toward the edge. Asha was expert in scaling the rocks of the mountains, she had braved many an uncharted lookout and edged her toes far closer to the edge than most would dare. But this place. It was something else. The perch looked out down the full line of peaks and valleys that made up the range. She could see lakes, forests and open plains that stretched for hundreds upon hundreds of kilometres. Her mouth dropped open in awe and she sighed out a breath of amazement.

“Nah, not like that one. You look wit' my eye, true way” He said, and Asha’s wonder turned to horror, as he shoved her over the edge.

There was no time to scream and even if she had, the rush of upward air would have swallowed it. Asha finally let go of her camera and swung her arms wide in an instinct to find purchase. There was nothing but open space, yet somehow, her arms took hold. The wind filled them, spread them and she slowed. She tucked her legs up under herself and they felt smaller, straightened her back and it preened smooth, pointed her nose and it hardened. She found an equilibrium. She was…soaring. She didn’t need to look at herself, to feel the ruffle of her feathers and note the sharpening of her eyesight. It did not seem strange at all, she simply flew, as was natural, like so many eagles had before. With her wings held wide, she coasted over the expanse of pristine bush below.

Asha rose higher and higher on the thermal updrafts that broke like waves against the peaks. Once she was skimming their very tops, she searched with her precision sight, taking in the spectacle of the mountains. The more she scanned, the more she saw. It was if the act of looking revealed more and more detail. More than even a bird's eye should from such an altitude. She saw every stone and how it fit against the next. She traced the snakes of water as they merged and split with their fellow serpents. She understood the placement of each tree and its role amongst a forest of its peers. And she saw life. Every movement of every creature below. They all cascaded against one another in a flow of blurred existence that was overwhelming. So much so, that the sheer quantity of it all merged into sweeping lines of colour and light that mirrored the dreamtime art she had always seen and dismissed. It was design on a scale so immense and so minuscule, that her mind could only display it as the man had described. A painting, layered colour over swept strokes. And there, amongst it all, directly below her and keeping pace with her line, the panther.

She absorbed the spectacle until her flight took her where she needed to go. She landed in the centre of a path that she knew led home, and stood again on two legs. She stretched out her arms and wiggled her fingers, feeling at once herself. Before her, standing still and calm, in the centre of the sandy dirt line, was her black cat.

“How will I ever describe it?” she asked, “How can I ever make them all see what I do?”

“Why you need do that?” the panther asked, speaking from beneath twitching whispers and cocking his head in confusion, “You got your own life. Them mob, they got different track.”

“You’re right, of course. I just wish they could understand…even if its only once. I wish they could hear and know me, as I want them to.”

“Just know yourself, that one enough. Hmm. I been wrong. You proper belong here, Gariwerd.” He said, before turning and slinking into the forest. Before he disappeared completely, he turned and whispered, “Me, I been forget when something proper surprise me. I keep eye on you, true.” And then he was gone.

Asha, stood for a moment and allowed the sound of birdsong and the menthol smell of the trees to wash over her, before turning and beginning the trek, of only a few remaining miles, back to her family’s cabin. She turned off her camera, slung it over her shoulder, out of the way, and looked around with her eyes as the light began to dwindle. She watched it transform the wilds into a new realm of starlight and shadow, and wondered how different it might look from above.