Waking up under the leaf from which it slept, the bright yellow sun shines through.
The morning dew drips off its jet black and fluorescent green wings as they unfold.
The largest of them all, the Birdwing Butterfly, takes off, shaking loose the dew, free from the leaf and its body.

Wings beat the air, flying silently through the dark green of the shaded forest.
Dodging falling leaves and dew drops with grace, the glinting off its light green streaks.
The majestic Birdwing flutters over the crimson red flower and lands, feeding on the sugary nectar trapped within.

But the butterfly wasn’t the only one in search of nourishment, as a predator lurks.
A chameleon, bumpy skin, blending with the rough brown and grass green moss on a near tree.
As it moves slowly up the tree, gripping the bark with its sticky feet, both eyes pivot, but at least one never loses sight of the Birdwing.

In position on the moist branch level with the same crimson red flower, the chameleon readies.
Noticing the danger, he beats the air with his wings, creating a tiny cloud of pollen.
But far too late, the Birdwing is ripped out of the air; with a crunch and the closing of a mouth, he is gone, along with his beauty not to be remembered.