Yummy in my Tummy! [p]

Palaydrian Soul · 05-07-2012, 12:37 PM

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WC:: 605 I’m setting this to about a week and a half after Drin’s acceptance into New Dawn.

Palaydrian’s seal point paws had found themselves carrying the tawny femme out of New Dawn packlands once again. She was no doubt quickly falling in love with her new pack, but the thrill of tracking down her grandmother’s past kept her occupied during the daylight hours. So far the trail had run cold, but the young wolfess was hard to give up. She had meandered through the lands embracing Inferni a few times now and found the Dampwoods, as they were called, made for excellent hunting grounds. The femme was surprised another neighboring pack hadn’t cordoned off the area for themselves, but the pine needle forest remained untainted and unclaimed by the pungent odor of territorial urine. Drin selfishly liked to think the more north-western section of the woods was her own little paradise. Here the flora and fauna as well as waking life was abundant. It was the perfect place for the stealthy hunter to sharpen and hone her skills.

It was early morning, but the forest had already woken up out of its syrupy slumber. Shafts of orange and gold sunlight blanketed the forest floor. Bugs of different kinds buzzed about as a multitude of birds dipped and swooped about the tree tops and more shadowy areas. Their birdsong chatter echoed in the woods, light and airy talk undisturbed and going about their business. A lilac dipped ear twitched to flick off the mayfly that had just landed. A sleek lupine body was crouched low beneath a fern bed. Palaydrian was the epitome of a focused hunter. Muscles ready to spring were bundled in her stance and her pupils were pinpricks in the dappled light. The she-wolf moved silently forward, her large paws practiced in the art of rolling slowly onto the ground. Her quarry, a large groundhog, was busy modifying its home, which was a large network of tunnels and holes. Drin would only get one chance, as one false move would send the determined pig into the depths of his home, not to return to the light of day until much later.

She inched as close as she dared, taking shallower breaths now. The groundhog had a systematic way of working. Dig here, pat there, stand tall and look about, and finally collect grass from here before going back under. It was the last task that Drin knew would be her only chance, but the groundhog was growing weary as a pesky robin spotted the wolf a few minutes ago, and the red breasted male began to chirp in his distress. The young Soul waited and became a statue until the robin gave up its protests and continued its mating call. The groundhog went back to its business. Her ears slowly folded backward against her head before she bolted from beneath the ferns in an athletic leap, paws outstretched to make contact with her prey. An ugly sound between a screech and bark erupted from the groundhogs mouth before powerful canines clamped tight around its windpipe breaking it within seconds. The forest erupted with panic energy and slowly clamored down once the death of the groundhog was accepted, and life went on.

Warm blood had been filling the wolf’s mouth before she dropped the lifeless body at her paws. The drink of victory was intense. Drin’s tongue lolled out in a wolfish grin before she picked up her game and carried it back into the ferns. Happy with her successful hunt, the Siamese coated wolf place the still warm carcass under her paw and bent down to take her first bite. Bon appetit!

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