The Blood Runs Sweetest With Fear

*Costa* · 01-03-2016, 03:13 PM

Spring brought a myriad of fledgling wildlife, stupid and weak. The season of plenty had caused her waist line to become more of something akin to a normal size, with her hip bones not so knobby from the lack of proper nutrition. The wilds were filled with the scent of plant growth and afterbirth alike, equal signs of new life flourishing all over Alacritia.

Grass tickled her sides and face as she nosed through the long grasses and various other vegetation. She paused, lifting her head to take in a deep breath letting the new season air fill her lungs and soothe her soul. She could smell the many different grasses, flowers and roots that bloomed here. A good distance away deer mingled, fawns and mothers huddled together in a community feast. There was safety in numbers, they knew that.

Lavender eyes scanned the surrounding slopes, catching something massive and dark in the tall grass. Her mind jumped to conclusions, telling her that was just a boulder or some other stone-y creation but her nerves told her that was not quite right. She was locked on, waiting with the patience of an owl watching a vole. The slightest of movement tipped her off, a canid of some sort was what she spied. A deep black in color, the behemoth blended flawlessly into the hard shadows of the day. A small sound drew her attention out, catching a doe sauntering off from a fawn that took to bedding down for cover. It had already been spotted, however, hunted before it even had a chance.

She knew what came next. Her eyes flit back to the beast just it burst forward. Clean, fluid motions carried the interesting looking animal to where the defenseless fawn lay in wait. As it screamed out she couldn't help her natural instinct to pull her ears back, close her eyes, and look away. The moment passed quickly, death was a natural process.

The screaming didn't end though. It only subsided for a moment before taking off again. She took a step forward, tense, then stopped sharply. Clearing her throat she rallied her muster, lowering her head to shoulder height before taking a bowed path closer. She moved slowly, carefully. His sheer mass made him stick out much more than she did. Coal grey base topped with black and brown markings created a shadowed effect, her star spread face catching like highlights in the sun. And her paws were tucked well into the undergrowth where they were not so stark.

"I thought only babies played with their food?" Her tone was on the flatter side, stuck between humor and caution. Her lavender eyes caught the blood-lust in his, which were suitably a crimson coloration. She waited for him to respond or, perhaps, react.

"Speech"

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The Blood Runs Sweetest With Fear

Costa