Post by dreamy on Feb 5, 2012 3:52:58 GMT
Thirteen;;
The water was restless today. The wind was battering it relentlessly, pulling it into ripples and waves and letting it crash against the dry land like the tide of the ocean. It lapped against the sparce vegetation dotting the edge of the lake, soaking the already sodden ground with cold water, and making the dirt become progressively less opaque. However, it had been smoothed by the clear, frosty water of the lake, completely flat aside from the deep paw marks that now sunk further and further into the much.
The male had stopped running when he reached the lake, a huge dead rabbit clamped haphazardly in his jaws. He liked it here; the subtle roll of the water and the comfort of the tall conifer trees clustered around him. Truthfully, it reminded him of his hunting dog days, where he had been the most powerful, the best. He smiled. Power was a good feeling.
The wind was biting, chilled by the recent rainfall, but not cold enough to deter him. The wolfhounds jaws tightened to the point where the rabbit's blood began to run, warm and sweet, down his throat, and he slackened his grip so not to ruin the kill. It had been a good one, the best he'd made that season, and haughty pride was alight in his eyes. Even with he chill of winter still heavy in the air, he had managed to find the creature. It was almost too heavy for him to haul around, despite the muscles defined in his strong body.It's fur was thick, clogging his throat, and his nostrils flared as he breathed around it.
Thirteen dropped the rabbit at his feet and smirked. He did not plan on eating it yet, despite the protest his belly insisted on giving. A good kill was a good lure for the ladies, and a good bragging right for other males. He chuckled slyly. There was a method to this madness.
Thirteen's brown eyes shot upward, searching through the towering trees. A flash of movement had caught his eye. The gray male swung his head, searching with the eyes of a sighthound. The recent rain had clogged up his senses, making it hard to discern between species and pack and gender. All he knew was that there was someone there.
Thirteen grabbed the scruff of his rabbit and hauled it from the shoreline, gritting his teeth when he tasted the thickness of mud coated in its fur. If anything, it would make him look dangerous enough to scare away this other creature, whatever it was.
Thirteen's hard brown eyes narrowed accusingly, and he faltered. For a moment, the scent had become clear, for a moment he could taste beyond the stench of water and sodden, muddy fur, and what he smelled alarmed him.
He did not know where it was from, but this scent was familiar. This was someone he knew. But what alarmed him, was that he could not recall who it belonged to.
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Words;; 492
Muse;; average
Notes;; I suck at starting posts. a lot. forgive the unoriginality.