“It is said that during thunderstorms jaguars turn into humans. They become women just like you and I.”

“Why don’t they become boys? Padre Luís always said that we’re the weaker ones.”

“Ay, Cozumél, don’t let the Padre give you such ideas. A jaguar is one of the most dangerous spirits in the forest not only because of its pure power. But because they also know how to use it. That is the important part.”

Outside, the rumbling lit up the afternoon shade. Lightning crashed across the sky, white-haired yet short-lived.

The forest seemed to hold its breath for a moment after the growling had passed. Noone said a word. Then, Cozumél stirred.

“Xochitl? What are the chances we meet a jaguar-woman during the thunderstorm?”

“Hm, I don’t know how we could tell them apart from each other.”

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