Born of Fear
03-24-2016, 06:49 PM
Walk | Talk | Think
Go away. She wanted to yell the words, to be loud and threatening enough that even Jakart, a trained warrior, would think twice about coming closer and instead turn tail to flee. It was asking for a lot; she hardly made the most imposing figure, even all puffed up and doing her best to appear big and bad, but she could not risk it. She had to try, to make herself look as fearsome as possible so that he stayed away. He could not come into the den. He could not come near the pups. This time around, the litter would remain hers, and that meant keeping the father at a distance, not allowing him close enough to steal them away from her. She hoped, desperately, that the timid nature she had first noticed about Jak would make him hesitate now.
Only it did not. Even watching him sidelong, her fierce blue eyes saw him move not back but forward, toward her further into the den. Her growl became louder, trying to sound more threatening, but if he moved in this way, closer toward the danger, then what danger really did he perceive? The babies cried, forced to end their meal early and guarded now by their mother's body instead of offered her side to snuggle next to. But Callisto could barely hear them over her own voice, echoing within the confined space of the den. Leave, now! Her angry expression demanded it as she bared her fangs and stood, crouched, over the pups, her tail lashing as her gaze followed Jakart as he circled into the den. How dare he! Did he not see that he was not welcome? Was he determined not to abide by her wishes anymore? It frightened her, made her more anxious, more desperate, but with him so close, cornered with her inside the den, there was nothing for her to do than what she was already doing.
He did not get closer - in fact, she thought he might have left some tufts of fur behind along the den's earthen walls - but stayed as far from her and the children as he could get, and as he reached the den's entrance again, Calli turning to follow him with each step he made, Jakart turned to retreat. With his back turned, the defensive mother felt emboldened, and on a surge of anger she tried to lash out. Her bared fangs opened and closed as she lunged, but even in this her anxiety won out. Rather than grasp his grey tail, she only managed to pull out a small tuft of fur, and awkwardly she spat it out through her growl. She continued to stand, tensed and guarded, as he took up a post outside of the den, within sight but at a distance. Not far enough. She wanted him gone, out of sight so that he could be out of mind, but of course her horrible luck and cursed life prevented it. Why did I think this was a good idea?
As one of the pups cried louder, even louder than her growl as it had begun to quiet down, she knew she could not keep standing like that forever. To appease the pups, because they were her responsibility and she was determined to take care of them, she gave them room and lay down upon her side again, but she did not relax. She could feel the pups moving against her stomach, and those movements told her what they were doing while her gaze remained fixed on the den's entrance, watching Jakart outside of it. Occasionally she growled, just to keep up her pitiful threat, but she did not move to go after him nor did she get comfortable with her children. Instead she fought her exhaustion, fought to stay awake and defend the little lives she had brought into the world from the threat she perceived in their father until she could stay awake no longer and reluctantly succumbed to her body's frailty.
-End thread-
Go away. She wanted to yell the words, to be loud and threatening enough that even Jakart, a trained warrior, would think twice about coming closer and instead turn tail to flee. It was asking for a lot; she hardly made the most imposing figure, even all puffed up and doing her best to appear big and bad, but she could not risk it. She had to try, to make herself look as fearsome as possible so that he stayed away. He could not come into the den. He could not come near the pups. This time around, the litter would remain hers, and that meant keeping the father at a distance, not allowing him close enough to steal them away from her. She hoped, desperately, that the timid nature she had first noticed about Jak would make him hesitate now.
Only it did not. Even watching him sidelong, her fierce blue eyes saw him move not back but forward, toward her further into the den. Her growl became louder, trying to sound more threatening, but if he moved in this way, closer toward the danger, then what danger really did he perceive? The babies cried, forced to end their meal early and guarded now by their mother's body instead of offered her side to snuggle next to. But Callisto could barely hear them over her own voice, echoing within the confined space of the den. Leave, now! Her angry expression demanded it as she bared her fangs and stood, crouched, over the pups, her tail lashing as her gaze followed Jakart as he circled into the den. How dare he! Did he not see that he was not welcome? Was he determined not to abide by her wishes anymore? It frightened her, made her more anxious, more desperate, but with him so close, cornered with her inside the den, there was nothing for her to do than what she was already doing.
He did not get closer - in fact, she thought he might have left some tufts of fur behind along the den's earthen walls - but stayed as far from her and the children as he could get, and as he reached the den's entrance again, Calli turning to follow him with each step he made, Jakart turned to retreat. With his back turned, the defensive mother felt emboldened, and on a surge of anger she tried to lash out. Her bared fangs opened and closed as she lunged, but even in this her anxiety won out. Rather than grasp his grey tail, she only managed to pull out a small tuft of fur, and awkwardly she spat it out through her growl. She continued to stand, tensed and guarded, as he took up a post outside of the den, within sight but at a distance. Not far enough. She wanted him gone, out of sight so that he could be out of mind, but of course her horrible luck and cursed life prevented it. Why did I think this was a good idea?
As one of the pups cried louder, even louder than her growl as it had begun to quiet down, she knew she could not keep standing like that forever. To appease the pups, because they were her responsibility and she was determined to take care of them, she gave them room and lay down upon her side again, but she did not relax. She could feel the pups moving against her stomach, and those movements told her what they were doing while her gaze remained fixed on the den's entrance, watching Jakart outside of it. Occasionally she growled, just to keep up her pitiful threat, but she did not move to go after him nor did she get comfortable with her children. Instead she fought her exhaustion, fought to stay awake and defend the little lives she had brought into the world from the threat she perceived in their father until she could stay awake no longer and reluctantly succumbed to her body's frailty.
-End thread-
