Mowing down the enemy – Special Forces

I swaggered across the battlefield gloating in the thrill of victory.

They might come again but I would be ready for them. I had cut them down to within an inch of their lives (or a couple of centimeters if you are metrically inclined).

Alas, what a fool! My guard had dropped. They had Special Forces lying in ambush ready to strike back when I least expected it.

As I approached the sacred fruit tree with a view to netting it and warding off aerial attacks they struck a low blow such as their kind is capable of. The first wound was to the ankle. Then the thigh. How fast these mercenary Special Forces can move! As I brushed off the first wave of attackers more swarmed around and one struck at my hand.  I knew it was time to retreat and lick my wounds (or perhaps try a more hygienic treatment).

These warriors were big, black and fearsome. Their weaponry delivered a very painful sting.

You don’t want to mess with Bull Ants (Myrmecia) if you can avoid it.

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