the audience just claps and cheers

Tlantli Kimaris · 04-23-2011, 01:18 AM

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mall-caps;font-variantmall-caps;letter-spacing:4px;">THE SPARK OF DAWN

She always marveled on the simplicity of her hunting gear, and the grace of movement a simple strand of leather cording had once put into motion. Small animals were the easiest, rabbits and weasels that could prove useful to the small body of a coyote, but she knew tricks to bring down bigger beasts. That was her boon for the morning. A bigger beast. More specifically, a bobcat or deer, though the more violent former was preferred. What fun was a hunt if she didn't have to fight for her kill? Miqui bore the scars of a bobcat's anger. Now his sister wanted one; Citlali was sure to find something useful for the pelt, and her Sun God would see the sacrifice she offered from it, if his eyes could penetrate the caverns that she now dwelled beneath.

Once the easily-made snare was set, she waited, fire eyes watching the world as animals traipsed to and from. As time passed by, she found ways to make the region more enticing. Chipmunks and squirrels fell to her agile hands, something to tempt the carnivores into the area. How lucky she was patient, for hours passed before the creature she desired came forth. Sniffing, chuffing, angry little bobcat wandered forward with wary eyes, spotted pelt easily recognized in the springtime earth about it. Nothing seemed wrong, until it caught sight of unwanted motion. The small feline prepared to launch itself at what could be danger.

She was faster. Sling at the ready, she slipped a rock into a familiar sag in the material; it only took two forceful swings to release it at the target. With a comforting plunk, her prey went down. Her vigorous practice in Barbados had lead to skill in at least one form of ranged weaponry, and it caused the vaguest pride to rise inside of her small chest. It hadn't been what she'd desired, of course, and she snarled at the unconscious animal as she approached. Clawed fingers tore easily into the flesh of the wildcat's neck. Warm blood stained her blonde hands. Damnable creature. She should have hunted for rabbits instead.

With the corpse dragging along the ground, the young woman made her way back across the steps she had taken to get there, searching for her home amongst the caves. She didn't take notice of the light-colored man who, with his angry gait, seemed to be heading in the same direction. When she found herself running into him, she didn't apologize. Her body stopped, face turning toward the taller creature. Strange to be angry on such a day, but she herself had lost a pleasant mood. "Troubles, niño pequeño?" Boy, he was not, and he didn't rank as little either, yet the brazen woman spoke with apathy.

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