plant a few root real deep and let 'em grow

In the vast expanse of the Serpent Plains, where the golden grasses swayed and whispered in the wind, Taiga stalked. The enormous lioness wasn't your typical feline. She was of a species foreign to the lands upon which she hunted. The cave lioness' size put all other felines on the continent to shame. Being such a large cat, she needed to hunt often.

On this particular day, as the sun cast its warm rays across the plains, Taiga prowled silently through the tall grasses. Her ruby eyes gleamed with determination as she tracked her prey—a massive wild hog that had the unfortunate luck to cross the hungry feline's path. The wild hog, unaware of the danger lurking nearby, lowered its head to drink from the cool waters of the stream. Taiga crouched low in the grass, the stripes and rosettes of her pelt blending in rather well with the wavering shadows of the tall grass.

Time seemed to slow as Taiga bided her time, her muscles coiled like springs ready to unleash their power. The pig drank its fill, then stood erect once more. It gave little grunts as its nose wiggled, testing the wind. Thankfully, the breeze was in Taiga's favor and blew the pigs scent towards her rather than her scent towards it. The porcine morsel began moving straight towards her, ready to get back into the long grass where it likely felt safer. Big mistake. With a sudden burst of speed, the lioness launched herself from the tall grasses, her powerful legs propelling her forward with astonishing agility.

The big boar sensed the danger too late, its beady eyes widening in terror as Taiga closed in on her prey. Near silently, gigantic paws carried the feline quickly across the distance between herself and her prey. Hind legs tensed and she leaped, powerful muscles propelling her quickly forward like a torpedo. Taiga tackled the hog to the ground, her sharp claws sinking deep into its flesh as she brought it down to the ground with her. The boar squealed, screaming bloody murder as it was... bloodily murdered.

The struggle was brief but intense as Taiga fought to subdue her quarry. The size of her snowshoe paws helped tremendously to hold the squirming hog in place. Wide jaws wrapped around its thick throat, canines digging into flesh as she cut off its air supply. The hog struggled, but its strength was quickly waning. With each gasp, the huntress was able to bite down harder and harder. Soon, the kicking and thrashing of her prey ceased. She was the victor.

Breathing heavily, Taiga surveyed her kill with pride, her soot and snow fur stained with the blood of her prey. The big cat sank to the ground in a puddle, giving a very pleased roll through the crumpled grass. If she'd been capable of purring, she would very well have done just that. When her roll of satisfaction was completed, Taiga lay on her side and began grooming the blood away from her pelt. A cat could never be too clean and it wasn't as though her meal was going anywhere, right?

WC-523
Total- 931/1500

"Taiga"