08-16-2009, 02:26 PM
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The younger of two Luperci, the one spurring a situation that was probably not the best idea (in retrospect this would be proven), also heard the resounding crack of horn-on-horn in the near distance. She, unlike Anselm, had no idea what that sort of signal meant, so for a moment she froze, daring even a hair along her black-stippled back to stir. The wind, fortunately, died momentarily to help her with her conquest. The echoing of that whip-like impact fell away, and Valkyrie relaxed a little, creeping forward just a little more.
The herd, of course, caught wind of the creature in the mountains sooner than she did, and a restlessness fell about their actions. The males stopped their sparring, glancing upward as if expecting a rock slide to tumble upon them, and Val's delicate senses prickled the moment the scent caught her nose: coyote.
Normally a welcome scent, that of Inferni suddenly infuriated her, tickling her irritation and pulling her fancy down a couple notches. For one of her clan mates to be here, now, was unfortunate, and he had chosen a rather ill place to seat himself. She couldn't see her grandfather, nor was she able to pick out his own unique scent amongst that of sheep and coyote generally, but she knew somebody was there, disrupting her hunt. Perhaps it wasn't intended, but she wasn't about to lose out now.
She broke cover quickly, while the sheep were still assembling themselves, throwing her Secui bulk forward into a lumbering run the moment they noticed her. Unpractised and of the belief that surprise was an element that was always beneficial to the hunter, Valkyrie believed that their scattered bleating and confusion was a bonus for her, and at first it seemed that was the case. The young ram she had chosen turned in a skitter of grass and stone and bolted for a ridge, her plan of attack already falling easily into motion, and she followed, sure-footed despite not being too used to the terrain.
It might've worked, if the ram hadn't stopped before tumbling over that precarious precipice to its death below. What she hadn't included in the equation was the beast's defensive nature, and considering she knew nothing of sheep and their mating rituals, she could not have foreseen it. Instead of running over the edge, her quarry turned at her with an aggressive snort, waving its horns.
She backpedaled hard, pulling herself short of the beast just in time for it to toss itself forward and smack her back with its juvenile rack. She, of course, bounced harmlessly away, sucking breath in as the pain of that blunt impact shot through her shoulders, her arms, her ribs' contact with the ground, and most of all, through a shallow (though quickly bleeding, given it was the head) gash it had split across the top of her forehead.
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The younger of two Luperci, the one spurring a situation that was probably not the best idea (in retrospect this would be proven), also heard the resounding crack of horn-on-horn in the near distance. She, unlike Anselm, had no idea what that sort of signal meant, so for a moment she froze, daring even a hair along her black-stippled back to stir. The wind, fortunately, died momentarily to help her with her conquest. The echoing of that whip-like impact fell away, and Valkyrie relaxed a little, creeping forward just a little more.
The herd, of course, caught wind of the creature in the mountains sooner than she did, and a restlessness fell about their actions. The males stopped their sparring, glancing upward as if expecting a rock slide to tumble upon them, and Val's delicate senses prickled the moment the scent caught her nose: coyote.
Normally a welcome scent, that of Inferni suddenly infuriated her, tickling her irritation and pulling her fancy down a couple notches. For one of her clan mates to be here, now, was unfortunate, and he had chosen a rather ill place to seat himself. She couldn't see her grandfather, nor was she able to pick out his own unique scent amongst that of sheep and coyote generally, but she knew somebody was there, disrupting her hunt. Perhaps it wasn't intended, but she wasn't about to lose out now.
She broke cover quickly, while the sheep were still assembling themselves, throwing her Secui bulk forward into a lumbering run the moment they noticed her. Unpractised and of the belief that surprise was an element that was always beneficial to the hunter, Valkyrie believed that their scattered bleating and confusion was a bonus for her, and at first it seemed that was the case. The young ram she had chosen turned in a skitter of grass and stone and bolted for a ridge, her plan of attack already falling easily into motion, and she followed, sure-footed despite not being too used to the terrain.
It might've worked, if the ram hadn't stopped before tumbling over that precarious precipice to its death below. What she hadn't included in the equation was the beast's defensive nature, and considering she knew nothing of sheep and their mating rituals, she could not have foreseen it. Instead of running over the edge, her quarry turned at her with an aggressive snort, waving its horns.
She backpedaled hard, pulling herself short of the beast just in time for it to toss itself forward and smack her back with its juvenile rack. She, of course, bounced harmlessly away, sucking breath in as the pain of that blunt impact shot through her shoulders, her arms, her ribs' contact with the ground, and most of all, through a shallow (though quickly bleeding, given it was the head) gash it had split across the top of her forehead.
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