Post by Picasso on May 30, 2013 11:15:09 GMT
Mika
The sky was beginning to blush with dusk as a canine stalked through the forest. He weaved through the towering pine trees, careful not to make a sound as he breathed in the scent of his prey. It was nearing nighttime and Masque had been searching for food for many hours now. He had finally caught the scent of a young doe, possibly lame judging by the prints in the dirt. His paws precariously stepped onto the soft ground, knowing the slightest snap of a twig could startle her away. He had spotted her a mile back, but she'd ran into the trees before Masque could get close. Should it get any darker, the canine knew he'd have to turn back without a meal for the day. Myrrh would be disappointed, and they'd go to sleep hungry. However, Masque's stomach growled in protest, spurring the canine further into the thickest part of the forest. It was cooler here, where the ground was higher and the wind was more bitter. Snow fell first in this part of Hexasol, and Masque knew in less than a month he would have to travel north to the city, where the climate would be warmer.
Panting for breath, Masque surveyed his surroundings. It was darker with the thick trees above him shrouding the last remains of light. A crow squawked in its tree, before taking flight. Masque was beginning to feel bothered at the lack of a successful hunt. Prey should still be thriving in autumn, yet here he was, going hungry. How would he survive winter when he couldn't find a decent meal for himself? Sighing, Masque wondered how long the trek back to his sister would be. He and Myrrh had been living as recluses over the summer, rarely straying far from their den near the mountains. He felt constrained to her schedule, unable to escape and meet others. Masque wasn't a social chap, but he did miss a good conversation. Myrrh was sick in the mind, and it was difficult to speak of anything vaguely normal with her.
Masque approached a clearing slowly, eyeing the doe as she ate from the undergrowth. Her back was turned as she chewed on the leaves. She was still young and smaller than most, meaning he was at an advantage. Crouching, Masque slowly approached, ears pinned to the back of his head. His paws were tentatively careful as his heart begun to race from the adrenalin. The doe was still unaware of his presence as he made his way around the circumference of the clearing, not wanting to give his position away. A noise from elsewhere in the forest made the doe suddenly freeze. She swivelled her head, looking around the clearing. Masque stopped and watching as she looked for any dangers. Satisfied that she was not under attack, she resumed eating.
The shepherd continued, eyes trained on his prey. He was only a few feet away from her, ready to pounce. Stopping, Masque got into position, readying his body into a crouch. His whole body quivered with excitement. There was a certain thrill of a hunt that Masque would never get bored of. The doe, still completely oblivious, chewed on her cud as Masque leapt at her. It was only at the last minute that the deer suddenly noticed the canine jumping at her. She scattered, trying to run. However, her hind leg was fractured, and she was slow and clumsy. Masque caught her quickly, careful of her kicking legs that could easily break his ribs. His teeth sank into her neck, bringing the young deer down with ease.
The light faded from her eyes quickly, and Masque grinned with accomplishment. He now had the problem of dragging the carcass back to his sister, who was miles away. Shrugging to himself, the canine decided to sit down to eat his own meal first, hopefully taking some of the weight off his future journey. Licking his chops, he began to consume the flank of the deer quickly and greedily, sating his empty stomach.
The sky was beginning to blush with dusk as a canine stalked through the forest. He weaved through the towering pine trees, careful not to make a sound as he breathed in the scent of his prey. It was nearing nighttime and Masque had been searching for food for many hours now. He had finally caught the scent of a young doe, possibly lame judging by the prints in the dirt. His paws precariously stepped onto the soft ground, knowing the slightest snap of a twig could startle her away. He had spotted her a mile back, but she'd ran into the trees before Masque could get close. Should it get any darker, the canine knew he'd have to turn back without a meal for the day. Myrrh would be disappointed, and they'd go to sleep hungry. However, Masque's stomach growled in protest, spurring the canine further into the thickest part of the forest. It was cooler here, where the ground was higher and the wind was more bitter. Snow fell first in this part of Hexasol, and Masque knew in less than a month he would have to travel north to the city, where the climate would be warmer.
Panting for breath, Masque surveyed his surroundings. It was darker with the thick trees above him shrouding the last remains of light. A crow squawked in its tree, before taking flight. Masque was beginning to feel bothered at the lack of a successful hunt. Prey should still be thriving in autumn, yet here he was, going hungry. How would he survive winter when he couldn't find a decent meal for himself? Sighing, Masque wondered how long the trek back to his sister would be. He and Myrrh had been living as recluses over the summer, rarely straying far from their den near the mountains. He felt constrained to her schedule, unable to escape and meet others. Masque wasn't a social chap, but he did miss a good conversation. Myrrh was sick in the mind, and it was difficult to speak of anything vaguely normal with her.
Masque approached a clearing slowly, eyeing the doe as she ate from the undergrowth. Her back was turned as she chewed on the leaves. She was still young and smaller than most, meaning he was at an advantage. Crouching, Masque slowly approached, ears pinned to the back of his head. His paws were tentatively careful as his heart begun to race from the adrenalin. The doe was still unaware of his presence as he made his way around the circumference of the clearing, not wanting to give his position away. A noise from elsewhere in the forest made the doe suddenly freeze. She swivelled her head, looking around the clearing. Masque stopped and watching as she looked for any dangers. Satisfied that she was not under attack, she resumed eating.
The shepherd continued, eyes trained on his prey. He was only a few feet away from her, ready to pounce. Stopping, Masque got into position, readying his body into a crouch. His whole body quivered with excitement. There was a certain thrill of a hunt that Masque would never get bored of. The doe, still completely oblivious, chewed on her cud as Masque leapt at her. It was only at the last minute that the deer suddenly noticed the canine jumping at her. She scattered, trying to run. However, her hind leg was fractured, and she was slow and clumsy. Masque caught her quickly, careful of her kicking legs that could easily break his ribs. His teeth sank into her neck, bringing the young deer down with ease.
The light faded from her eyes quickly, and Masque grinned with accomplishment. He now had the problem of dragging the carcass back to his sister, who was miles away. Shrugging to himself, the canine decided to sit down to eat his own meal first, hopefully taking some of the weight off his future journey. Licking his chops, he began to consume the flank of the deer quickly and greedily, sating his empty stomach.
