Gatcha stood observantly on the beach-side cliff that resided on the western edge of his territory. It was a blisteringly hot day, the cicadas sang loudly and the delicate breeze weaved past his thick hide and provided a slight relief, but it wasn’t enough. Gatcha turned towards the path to head down toward the sandy beach, his heavy feet sinking into the slope walkway as it slowly transformed from hard dirt to sand. Gatcha reached the bottom and turned ...
