We never saw its face, only the pulsing writing mass of its body winding between the trees like a ribbon in a hurricane. It was hypnotic and disgusting and if we hadn't spotted the cougar carcasses tangled up between its coils, sluggishly bleeding and gasping their last, we might have been next.
We know it followed us, or it tried to at least. For most of the 5km walk back to the campsite we'd see it in our peripherals, dancing around the canopy, slowly weaving closer and closer. We began to take riskier paths, steeper and rockier paths without even stopping to set up our rope and carabiners.
It could have taken us out at any time, we felt it eyeing us up from somewhere behind us but it never struck. Maybe if we'd seen its face things would have gone differently, maybe if we hadn't noticed it so quickly or used such rough terrain to get back then we'd be just as tangled up and broken as those cougars.
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