we all survive in our own little ways
ft deathbelle
09-10-2019, 05:18 PM
the female proghorn was old and very slow, and that's how and why he caught it. there was no period of grace to it either; it had been a mad dash at the beast and he ended it as quick as possible. Hemlock decided to eat his fill before moving on. practice his skills as it were, but he wasn't exactly starving. thw west gave him everything he needed. water, outside of the zone of danger, etc. the kill was relatively clean and he ate a leg of the creature before dragging it away. the leg was all he needed, but it'd be a shame to waste such a precious gift. at first, he thought he'd drag it all the way to Valhalla for Aurielle's pack. but he knew that if he did, the sand would make it filthy. the insides would spew all over the ground. it'd be an awful mess. he didn't like messes. they attracted larger predators and he was in no mood to deal with them. besides, there was a perfectly good pack a few paces away. he managed to pull the pronghorn's body to the border of this one before settling down to lick clean the blood and gore from his dark pelt. quickly and effectively for he knew eyes would be watching him so close to their border. the neck was snapped from the back and a leg was missing, but otherwise, it was a whole piece of prey. Hemlock tried to position it openly and without much threat. he had every intention of leaving it here without a word, right before the pack's border. he had no reason to remain here and opted to leave as quickly as possible. the scent of the prey would be enough to make the wolves here come to the pronghorn anyway. call it a gift, a hope of survival for this large community. once he wasn't busy looking for Twig, he'd come back. maybe. you never know. he moved away from the body, twisting his own away. it was only by a voice did he pause, hesitating. he'd been found out. |
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