ardent

sad eyes, baby



Silverback


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08-08-2013, 05:00 PM




~*~



Silverback wasn't about to be thrown off easily. The she-wolf put up a fight, thrashing and pushing and trying to break free, but honestly, her words stung more than her actions. It had all happened too quickly and Silverback had all the right angles. It would've been that easy for the deer to die too. And by now Silver would be lapping at the lifeblood and ripping off strips of meat. In truth, the real hunting cats were naturally more merciful killers than wolves - by instinct they went for the spines or for the throats and noses. Wolves just swarmed enmass around a creature, dragging it down and ripping into it's guts and haunches while it was still screaming and kicking. Apparently some dogs had developed more precise ways of killing, but Silverback, from her far off peaks and purchases had watched plenty of hunts. She knew what distasteful, brutish things these four-legged flea bags could be. All of her ingrained rivalry with the things was pent up and released with growls and spats as she just kept pushing - holding the smaller creature down into the stone. Her wicked claws which were curved like the talons of a hawk, were right there- and oh dear - if the wolf moved too much they might just happen to sink in.

Sure Silverback had met some mutts she almost liked, but she still saw their race as a disgrace on the whole to other predators and a lesser species. She'd even hunted their kind before! ... and then she remembered... Just the other day when she'd started sneaking south... the pup with the different colored eyes... The memory sapped a good deal of her anger, but not her strength. "Enough!" she yowled, somewhere between a hiss and a growl. Her words sliced through the chilled air like knives; knived laced with all the poisonous bile and anger than had been twisting in her gut. "Stop squirming or I'll sate my hunger with your shoulder!" She would have obedience and fear from this white worm, or she would have herself a meal.



~*~