Back in the zine-and-convention scramble of my twenties, I fell headfirst for 'Manga Puma' and wanted to know who made it. The creator is Sora Fujimori, a quietly intense storyteller who sketched the first pages in margins of a
Biology notebook. Sora’s origin story for the work reads like a collision of city life and wilderness: raised near a bustling port, she later spent a season volunteering with a wildlife survey in the Andes, and that cross-pollination of concrete and mountain wind is stamped all over the manga.
Sora has said in interviews that the visual language of 'Manga Puma' came from watching nature documentaries late at night and reinterpreting predator movement through the dramatic, kinetic framing of classic
manga like 'Akira' and quieter, character-driven work like 'Mushishi'. The puma motif itself is used as both literal animal and a metaphor for a character’s instinct and solitude. The result feels cinematic — action that breathes and quiet moments that hum with ecological unease.
I love how the series doesn’t only emulate shonen energy; it folds in environmental notes, street-level human drama, and folklore about mountain spirits. Knowing Sora's mix of study, travel, and manga fandom makes each chapter feel like a postcard from someplace wild and honest — it’s one of those titles I keep recommending to friends at midnight.