On this episode of Crocodile Hunter
12-16-2018, 09:14 PM
Once the pack was settled into their new lands and he was satisfied that a watch had been set despite everyone's desire to rest after a long journey, Apollo retraced the route back to the old pack lands to be certain that no one and nothing had been left along the way. Not everyone had made the journey all at once despite Malleus' efforts, and while Apollo had confidence that the others would join them in short order by following the scent trail left he did not want to leave it entirely to chance. Particularly with the possibility that one may have been injured and with the pack far from them had been unable to summon help.
He found no trace of any of the few missing wolves, and most of the detritus left behind was of no real usefulness any longer. Some discarded herbs that the healers had left scattered, perhaps past their prime or gone bad. Some bits and scraps of hide and furs that he judged too small or worn to bother with, scattered bones and other refuse that a lived-in camp always gained after a while.
Satisfied that there was nothing of value left behind, he had started once more on his way back when a desperate howl echoed through the now-abandoned lands to attract his attention. He whipped around to face the call, gold eyes searching fiercely for the caller.
There, the young woman with the earthen toned fur and the pink eyes. Moving in on her in a deceptively lumbering manner was a huge reptile with a long, jagged-toothed snout and even longer whip-like tail. A crocodile. He had seen them in the distance as they exploded out of the water to snap powerful jaws upon their prey. When it closed the distance enough to reach the trapped wolf, the female would have little chance of surviving with all her limbs intact. Crocodiles were not merciful creatures.
Apollo surveyed them coolly, debating the merits of involving himself in a clearly dangerous situation on behalf of a mortal, a mortal he did not even know. Logically there was no reason to involve himself in her demise, and he didn't feel any particularly emotional reason to either. Still, he was vaguely intrigued at the idea of battling the huge prehistoric monster. He had defeated a elephant, but a crocodile could be every inch as dangerous in the correct circumstances.
These were not those circumstances, he judged, as he watched the creature move. It was not a natural land animal, though undoubtedly the wet weather and flooding is what had driven it here. If ever someone could defeat one of the beasts it would be now. He was not a thrill seeker or glory hound, but the thought of adding that sort of notch to the collective Abraxas belt held a certain appeal on its own merits. Very well.
He broke into a lope towards where the reptile threatened the unknown wolf, his golden eyes taking in the details as he went. He was coming in at a ninety degree angle rather than directly behind, so he should be able to more easily maneuver, though he risked the creature seeing him coming before he could disable the thing's formidable weaponry. They had incredible strength when biting down but, he had noted, not when opening their jaws. Perhaps he could take advantage of that, if he could get the timing right.
Shifting from a cautious lope to an all out sprint, he charged in at the creature's side and leaped, twisting as he did, and praying to the Fallen God's favor that he had timed it correctly.
At the last moment the crocodile saw his movement and gaped its jaws, but Apollo's chest his squarely atop the bridge of its long snout and slammed it downward to close with a snap - luckily not with any of Apollo's limbs between those fearsome teeth, as he landed with all four legs straddling the snout. He angled his paws to take advantage of his momentum, curling beneath the crocodile's lower jaw as he dropped, enabling him to wrap his forelegs around the creature's snout even as his chest pinned it to the ground.
Face to face, eye to eye, he and the primordial reptilian beast stared at one another, before Apollo drove his parted jaws forward to dig his fangs into the hooded black eyes.
The beast went mad with rage and pain, arching and rolling so fast Apollo very nearly lost his grip. But he held grimly with jaws and forelegs, keeping the deadly jaws clamped shut.
Word count: 768
He found no trace of any of the few missing wolves, and most of the detritus left behind was of no real usefulness any longer. Some discarded herbs that the healers had left scattered, perhaps past their prime or gone bad. Some bits and scraps of hide and furs that he judged too small or worn to bother with, scattered bones and other refuse that a lived-in camp always gained after a while.
Satisfied that there was nothing of value left behind, he had started once more on his way back when a desperate howl echoed through the now-abandoned lands to attract his attention. He whipped around to face the call, gold eyes searching fiercely for the caller.
There, the young woman with the earthen toned fur and the pink eyes. Moving in on her in a deceptively lumbering manner was a huge reptile with a long, jagged-toothed snout and even longer whip-like tail. A crocodile. He had seen them in the distance as they exploded out of the water to snap powerful jaws upon their prey. When it closed the distance enough to reach the trapped wolf, the female would have little chance of surviving with all her limbs intact. Crocodiles were not merciful creatures.
Apollo surveyed them coolly, debating the merits of involving himself in a clearly dangerous situation on behalf of a mortal, a mortal he did not even know. Logically there was no reason to involve himself in her demise, and he didn't feel any particularly emotional reason to either. Still, he was vaguely intrigued at the idea of battling the huge prehistoric monster. He had defeated a elephant, but a crocodile could be every inch as dangerous in the correct circumstances.
These were not those circumstances, he judged, as he watched the creature move. It was not a natural land animal, though undoubtedly the wet weather and flooding is what had driven it here. If ever someone could defeat one of the beasts it would be now. He was not a thrill seeker or glory hound, but the thought of adding that sort of notch to the collective Abraxas belt held a certain appeal on its own merits. Very well.
He broke into a lope towards where the reptile threatened the unknown wolf, his golden eyes taking in the details as he went. He was coming in at a ninety degree angle rather than directly behind, so he should be able to more easily maneuver, though he risked the creature seeing him coming before he could disable the thing's formidable weaponry. They had incredible strength when biting down but, he had noted, not when opening their jaws. Perhaps he could take advantage of that, if he could get the timing right.
Shifting from a cautious lope to an all out sprint, he charged in at the creature's side and leaped, twisting as he did, and praying to the Fallen God's favor that he had timed it correctly.
At the last moment the crocodile saw his movement and gaped its jaws, but Apollo's chest his squarely atop the bridge of its long snout and slammed it downward to close with a snap - luckily not with any of Apollo's limbs between those fearsome teeth, as he landed with all four legs straddling the snout. He angled his paws to take advantage of his momentum, curling beneath the crocodile's lower jaw as he dropped, enabling him to wrap his forelegs around the creature's snout even as his chest pinned it to the ground.
Face to face, eye to eye, he and the primordial reptilian beast stared at one another, before Apollo drove his parted jaws forward to dig his fangs into the hooded black eyes.
The beast went mad with rage and pain, arching and rolling so fast Apollo very nearly lost his grip. But he held grimly with jaws and forelegs, keeping the deadly jaws clamped shut.
Word count: 768