Belle skipped through the rocky crags just North of her parent's cabin, the sun gently warming the morning air, laughing as she went. The braid her mum had weaved earlier, loosened from her gay wanderings threatening to unravel. Belle did not care if her braid came undone, or if she scuffed her shoes, she was hunting Peekers!

As she went, small flowers rustled their leaves in protest at her passing, their single red flower tracking the blithe trespasser. Belle ignored them, Senti's were boring, they didn't like to hide the way Peekers did!

Climbing a small bluff, ripping a ladder in her tights, she yelped in excitement. There a few meters away, was a Peeker! Nestled in a crack as it swayed happily in the morning sun, it's long yellow stem proudly holding forth a great pink flower. The flower rotated on it's stem to face her and waited.

Belle froze, she had lost the element of surprise! oh bother, she chided herself. But she was an expert Peeker hunter, she could do this.

Slowly she edged back down the bluff, careful so as not to startle her prey. Once below the crest she crept around the lip, she would sneak up on it, like her tabby cat - teddy, back at home. When she was satisfied with the distance, she poked her head up ever so slowly, so she could peer over the edge. It was still there, flower raised to the sun, unaware that Belle still stalked it, like her dad stalked the Spine-Deer. She pulled out her lasso-net from it's holster, like a warrior from her bedtime stories, she held it's handle aloft. She just had to get the net over the Peeker's flower and the lasso would come shut.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Taking a step, a small rock came loose and tumbled down in a clatter, the flower whipped round to stare at the commotion before closing into a petaled fist and ducking back into it's crack.

"Nooo." Belle wailed, she had blown it, she stamped her feet in frustration. But no, Belle the great Peeker hunter wouldn't give up that easily. She cradled her lasso-net and gently sat down on a rock facing the small crack, I'll wait here, a great hunter is patient. She thought, reminding herself of what her father had told her.

She didn't have to wait long, the Peeker climbed tentatively from it's hiding hole, slowly unfurling it's flower as it quested around. Happy that the interloper had gone on its way, the Peeker stretched to it's full height and resumed sunning itself.

Flashing a toothy grin, Belle ever so carefully raised from her perch, lasso-net in hand she lunged. The net landed on-top of the flower's head, tightening automatically around it's stem, the Peeker's flower clamped shut and attempted to plunge back into it's hole. Belle heroically held onto the lasso-net, heaving the Peeker from it's hiding place, it's long yellow stem wriggled indignantly. Belle held her prize triumphantly above her head.

"You can't hide from Belle the mighty Peeker hunter!" she said, golden braid all a mess, shining in the morning sun.