hairy hare

Tyrfing had rose early in the night to an oddly vacant den - Mitros had slipped away and by the fading scent, it had been hours prior. The iridescent purple man stepped from his den to observe the night with mild interest, bright gaze catching upon the tracks that led away, nearly covered already with the soft falling snow. He considered for a moment going after the boy, but knew that Mitros had respected his own attempt at offering him independence. They were cousins, not father and son, and with the bright blue child's first birthday quickly due to arrive, Fin could give to him enough trust to offer him the space he was looking for.

He stepped further into the snow, a scent in the air catching his keen attention. Hare. Further evidence revealed itself as he took a second look at Mitros' tracks leading away, noticing that a second trail intersected with his own, except clearly less aged as the snow had barely begun to fill the small divots it's paws had left. Hare had a distinctive shape to their track, their massive feet and round fluffy tail producing something that could not be misconstrued as canine. He'd considered for a moment letting the thing live - after all, the elephant they had hunted together had more then provided them meat to sustain the travelling companions for the next week - but the reminder of his cousin's birthday was still fresh in his mind, and perhaps he'd appreciate a freshly caught meal.

Trotting out over the thinly hardened snow he moved to follow the trail, observing the depth of the track as well as the length to estimate the speed the creature had been travelling as well as how long ago he'd stepped here. It was not the most difficult hunt he'd ever had, and Fin was able to keep a leisurely and relaxed pace as he trailed it. The biggest worry in his mind was how far it might bring him from the den, and whether Mitros would appear to find him missing and assume the worst. He'd need to hurry with the kill and have it home and ready for the near-yearling's arrival.

The snow thickened the further he walked, though the dancefloor provided a terrain that was as flat and expansive as it was boring and snowy. He squinted out along the trail but could see nothing up ahead, a fact that did not surprise him, as most hares would be wearing their winter pelts this time of year and would likely be well camouflaged from prying eyes. He'd need to rely on the trail then, made easier by the fluffy layer of snow the rabbit was forced to hop along.

He very nearly spooked it, his instincts bringing him to slow just before he moved too close. There in the distance, visible more by the shadow it cast then the outline of his white fur, was the rabbit he hunted. It was frozen in place in the snow, alerted to his presence but not enough to break from where he stood. Tyrfing knew he could not camouflage himself the same way the beast could and so he merely remained still, keeping his eyes up over the rabbit's head so it might appear he was looking past it, while he planned.

The distance between them was short enough, but a rabbit was skilled at escaping capture. One series of zig zags and the wrong sheen of moonlight on the snow might be enough for him to lose it entirely, and coming home empty pawed was not his intention tonight. He looked further, his eyes moving as his head remained still, attempting to anticipate where the hare might flee too once he shifted toward it. The dancefloor was expansive and without much cover, he was every bit as likely to dive behind a snowbank then he was to simply dart across the snow, and even in an all out sprint Tyrfing was not sure if he could catch it. His weight was much larger then the hare, who almost floated atop the snow in comparison. Without the trail broken for him, he'd wind himself in the chase.

Instead he simply remained put, putting all his focus into remaining still and quiet, until the rabbit's head turned to survey the other direction. Taking one step, then two steps, and then coming to a stop once more as the rabbit's attention returned. The colors in the sky spoke to the nearing sunrise and it felt as if an hour had passed with him standing staring at his prey, but eventually he had found himself comfortable to try for an attack.

Launching himself the moment the rabbit's head turned once more, Tyrfing found himself quickly upon it. His paws crunched hard through the snow and pushed the rabbit down into the cold beneath his toes. His cat-like claws flexed, puncturing the rabbit's fluffy hide from either side of it's spine, squeezing hard to maintain a grip long enough for his crystalline sabers to finish it off. The kill was quick, and Tyrfing could lose no time in returning home to present the early birthday gift to his cousin.

Word Count: 866