The heat makes you sweat, darkens the leopard skins wrapped around your hips that serves as your only clothing. Your bare feet dig into the soft jungle soil, you leave a trail a near-blind man could follow, but the spear in your hands gives you confidence. Upon entering a clearing you pause to brush dampened hair from your face, listening to the sounds of animals hidden among the trees.
It's then you notice the burning sensation on the back of your neck although a quick check of the area reveals nothing. You feel eyes on you, tighten the grip you have on your spear. Your tribe lives near territory inhabited by catgirls, you often fight over food and water, and your gaze lifts slightly, up into the branches overhead.
The tiger-woman leaps with a yowl, too quick for you to react. She crashes into you, firm tits pressing against yours, and you both tumble until coming up against a tree. You've lost your spear, bleeding from a score of cuts, and the tiger-woman is straddling your waist, pinning you down. You snarl as you throw a punch, she lazily sways from your fist's path, but then you buck your hips, moaning as your pussy rubs against hers.
It dislodges her though and you scramble away on all fours, breath leaving you after a moment when she jumps onto your back. Desperately stretching fingers close around the shaft of your spear as the tiger-woman bites your neck and you swing it wildly over your shoulder. Your pained cry and a startled hiss merge as you hit the tiger-woman, you feel her weight disappear, and quickly climb to your feet.
She watches you, cautious now, and you both begin circling, waiting. She bounds forward, paws thudding against the ground, and swerves around your spear as you jab, sharp fangs closing around a tit. You feel the tiger-woman's claws pierce your skin, feel the blood trickling from each wound, and feel her hot breath wash over you. You both struggle, she lacks the strength to bowl you over when you're braced, and you bare your teeth as you both lock hands, straining to shove the other.
You lean backwards, pull the tiger-woman off-balance, but she's quick. She releases one of your hands, hers is an orange blur, and you feel your flesh part as she swipes claws across your throat. Blood pours out, stains your skin, and you stagger back a step, dropping heavily to your knees. The tiger-woman has a smirk on her face, her deep purring fills the clearing, and she thrusts her wet little kitty at you, clutches your face against it.
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