"The others would be displeased if they knew of his unnatural interest in this other animal, especially a human. Those who would hurt, torture, or kill them, in the name of some superior curiosity- most other species were their natural enemies. Therefore, the Sasquatch breed lived in small pods, disguising their nests and existence in uncanny ways derived from centuries of adaptations. Living in the hidden caves of the ridge worked successfully for he and his small group for several decades.
Suddenly, another adult appeared, with a forceful grunt, she dropped a long strap of desiccated meat onto his chest. She left without another sound or inclination, cognizant of his dominance, although displaying her interest in him as a mate. Courting remained equal opportunity within the Bigfoot species, yet, neither male nor female forced themselves upon the other. He had not yet reciprocated her subtle advances. He took a large bite of the dried hog meat, chewing forcefully from his robust appetite.
Finishing the large meal, he made his way to an underground spring, spurting gently from the ground into a small pool of water. Using his hands as a cup, he slurped several rounds of water, washing down the dryness of his meal. Water dripped from his hairy chin, the feeling delighted him, so he splashed water across his full face, fully awakening him from his nap. He crawled toward the entrance underneath the boulder. Sliding it across the opening, he wriggled through a satisfactory opening, assessing the surroundings. Quickly, he pulled himself upward and out of the space. He slid the boulder back into place and began his daily outdoor walk.
He lifted his head, sniffing the air for signs of any other creatures in his midst. A pungent fresh skunk smell permeated his immediate space. The skunk accomplished its’ defensive mission to rid its’ territory, as no other animals lingered close by. Bigfoot leaned over to pluck some fresh wild onions, eating them in a single gulp. Carefully, he walked across beds of dead leaves, alleviating any long lasting footprint. Ever alert, he made his way to the top of the ridge, overlooking the interloper’s campgrounds. He wanted to see her again."
"Now that you've read my contribution to TT, please visit my creative friends over at our main blog, Tuesday Tales for their take on the word, "bite".