this won't hurt a bit
08-11-2013, 11:02 AM
~*~
A low, reedy growl shook itself loose from the she-cat's chest as she prowled about the woods that lined the open meadows. The sound was the only sign that anything was there. With enough storm clouds rolling around to bring on a second Great Flood, it was easy enough to say the sky was overcast. The world was deprived of some of it's color and about half of it's light - making this a perfect day for the dangerous hunters to come out and and play.
But Silverback's mood wasn't exactly playful. A part of her was wishing she'd never left her territory in the north. When she'd first left she'd been burning with curiosity, but that itch was nothing compare to the pain of all these disappointments stacked on top of eachother. The bitterness was starting to shred at her soul. What had happened to her people? To all cats for that matter. So far she'd searched all through the north - and even started to come down into the northeast, and still there was nothing but the occasional scent of a stumpy tailed bobcat.
She had grown more irratable now; she'd noticed. In the past month or so, she'd yanked a wolf off's it's feet and pinned it to the ground, ready to kill it for having scared away her prey. She'd stalked and killed a young pup, before realizing her hunger wasn't worth it. Just the other day she'd nearly clawed some male's eyes out for waking her with his stupid howling. She was a proud character who did as she liked, but one thing she valued in herself was control. She might fly off the handle and burn down a forest if she wanted and that was fine - so long as that was what she consciously intended for herself to do. If she didn't start once more becoming master of her own impulses she'd end up no better than the mutts that seemed to clog these godforsaken lands.
When it came to the wolves themselves, she was generally prejudiced, but she'd found a few exceptions to the rules. She'd had intelligent conversation with a black loner and a purple eyed assassin, she'd even found herself attracted to a scarred up male who, in a way, had lost his people too. For the most part, it just depended. Honestly, she was begining to wonder... if there were no other cats out there... might she find at least some sort of solace in the company of a wolf. She wouldn't play it on their terms or anything. She wasn't about to join a pack, and she certainly didn't want some idiot butt-sniffer to be tagging along on all her hunts, but... just so that she would have someone to come back and talk to. Someone to groom. Someone to care for. Someone to keep the mind-numbing lonliness away so that she could once more think clearly.
As of late an idea had been forming in her mind, having taken root after a couple of different encounters involving wolves and cliffsides. They really were such helpless little sacks of bones... Maybe...
But she was distracted now from her thoughts, by the sound and scent of approaching wolf. She hoped it wasn't trying to be quiet or anything, because it sounded like it was trying to snap every twig and brittle stem in the whole treeline. Then again, maybe it was chasing something out into the open meadow just ahead. She'd have to wait and see. Totally hidden by the shadows of the trees and thickets, Silverback waited.
08-11-2013, 08:20 PM
~*~
(ooc: permission given to power play)
It was like the gods were sending a gift. It was a male wolf, young, but independent and deceny healthy looking, despite his apparent inability to hunt. Silverback wanted through slitted eyes as the boy ran pull mell for the scrap of prey until to lag further and further, and finally just throw the towel in. He slowed down to a walk, and collapsing panting at the edge of the meadow. The summer flowers were quite beautiful despite the ominous grey sky. They seemed to know that with dangerous storms came lots of life giving rain. Columbine, poppies, cornflowers and queen anne's lace all stretched up towards the heavens.
Silverback didn't know their names, honestly she'd never even seen most of them. At first she had just been overwhelmed by all the color here in the south (or northeast rather, but south for her). Every was so bright and smelled so strong. She was used to stone and snow and pine being her backdrop, not a hundred other others. Still, she was a hunter and she was learning to cope. She'd already brought down a brace of coneys here - which perhaps explained why all the other rabbits were extra flighty.
Now though, she was thinking of a very different prey. The wolf was pretty in his own way. He wasn't just a plain black or white - he was a rich brown color with dots of white sprouting here and there on his fur. At least she wouldn't get tired of looking at him in a hurry. She hesitated, calculating, thinking things through as she crouched comfortably in the thicket. A male, particularly a large one as this one would probably be, would mean alot of kills needed to keep him fed. But at the same time, from the looks of his skills it looked like she'd be doing him a favor. Not that his opinions were really involved in the matter. It was just a question of whether this fish was the one she wanted to catch. There were so many wolves around now a days that she could take her time and have her pick.
There was a moment's more pause, and then the sultry hunter departed her post. There was no sound. No noise. Save, of course, for the breeze that hinted strongly of rain. It was blowing towards Silver though, and carried the wolf's scent towards her rather than the other way around. If the boy had opened his eyes and raised his head, he still wouldn't have noticed anything seeming to be off. But behind him came the slow and steady advance of a silver shadow. So perfectly confident was she in her abilities, that she didn't over play a crouch and a stalk, she just padded up quietly. The boy was making it so easy - laying out like that with his back to her. And males could be so adorable when unconscious. Best that he stay that way for now, she decided, and, without hesitation, let launch a knock out blow to the back of his head. Had her claws been unsheathed, they would've dug all the way into his scalp. But she wasn't in a killing or particuarly maiming mood. She just wanted him out cold.
So, to make extra sure he didn't wake up at some point during the climb, she whacked him again.
Her tail tip flicked out behind her as she sighed contentedly. Already the stress was melting away.