06-12-2009, 08:22 AM
I'm not sure, but because Cwmfen's seen him, and that means the pressure is on to join the hunt, I'll move things along? I'm writing this assuming that the chase ends and they don't find his secret place << Also, sorry for the sort of crappiness...I guess I'm used to being more introspective, where here, he's just running for his life. Damn you Cwmfen for being so scary! Where do you get off chasing and trying to kill the old softy?
The predator fled. It heard the howl of its pursuer, but it was already running at full speed, and could give no more fuel to the flames of its own survival. If it ran much longer, it would not have been worth it, better to have simply fought from the onset than to be run down like a beast. But these were its grounds, and it felt in its gut that it could escape her here. She was faster than it, but the city could be a labyrinth to someone who did not know it. It was a perfect shelter for those who did.
It was then that the predator ran across something that threw all of its simple, if well-laid, plans into shambles. A werewolf, much taller than itself, stood in its path. It understood itself to be a big wolf, and each time it saw a werewolf, it remembered it could shift itself. Nonetheless, even though it normally would not quail before such a threat, it did not have the time to fight this foe before its pursuer caught up with it. It froze. One heart beat, then two, then three, then four, its hungry eyes staring into the werewolf's own, sizing it up, scenting the chemicals in the air, testing for the important ones: fear and anger.
Shortly, it made up its mind. The large wolf ran past the were, and three houses down, to the corner. There, it ran in, and suddenly down, into the basement. The basement was dark, but carpeted. It was where Brennt slept at night. His lair. Pitch black, but relatively bare and without dangerous obstacles. Shirts hung from wracks along the walls. Behind one such wall was a secret room, built my the owner many, many years ago. The door swung inward when the beast pushed against its third board. In the darkness, it couldn't be seen. The predator crawled in, and let the hidden entrance shut behind it. Within were long-burnt out lamps, and the wrinkled, browned vegetation of dead, illegal plants. Most importantly, there were stairs and a trap door in the ceiling that it could nudge open. It would do so once it believed the pursuit had ceased.
The predator fled. It heard the howl of its pursuer, but it was already running at full speed, and could give no more fuel to the flames of its own survival. If it ran much longer, it would not have been worth it, better to have simply fought from the onset than to be run down like a beast. But these were its grounds, and it felt in its gut that it could escape her here. She was faster than it, but the city could be a labyrinth to someone who did not know it. It was a perfect shelter for those who did.
It was then that the predator ran across something that threw all of its simple, if well-laid, plans into shambles. A werewolf, much taller than itself, stood in its path. It understood itself to be a big wolf, and each time it saw a werewolf, it remembered it could shift itself. Nonetheless, even though it normally would not quail before such a threat, it did not have the time to fight this foe before its pursuer caught up with it. It froze. One heart beat, then two, then three, then four, its hungry eyes staring into the werewolf's own, sizing it up, scenting the chemicals in the air, testing for the important ones: fear and anger.
Shortly, it made up its mind. The large wolf ran past the were, and three houses down, to the corner. There, it ran in, and suddenly down, into the basement. The basement was dark, but carpeted. It was where Brennt slept at night. His lair. Pitch black, but relatively bare and without dangerous obstacles. Shirts hung from wracks along the walls. Behind one such wall was a secret room, built my the owner many, many years ago. The door swung inward when the beast pushed against its third board. In the darkness, it couldn't be seen. The predator crawled in, and let the hidden entrance shut behind it. Within were long-burnt out lamps, and the wrinkled, browned vegetation of dead, illegal plants. Most importantly, there were stairs and a trap door in the ceiling that it could nudge open. It would do so once it believed the pursuit had ceased.