04-27-2009, 08:39 PM
The predator snarled as it strafed the big wolf, teeth snapping shut just short of the flesh of a furry arm which had fallen over its prey. Working its tongue and mouth distastefully, the beast spat out the black hairs it had inadvertently carried away. The creature was big...too big to fight. But it was desperate to eat the little girl, it had been unable to find this particular brand of sustenance elsewhere, and having found her out here was too good an opportunity to surrender without some sort of resistance. The food belonged to it, and this black wolf was seeking to steal it as it had last time. It was too big to kill, but the predator would see if it couldn't frighten it away.
Backing away, wordless, the inhuman eyes of the monster stared hungrily at the girl at the monster's feet, but knew better than to make a dash for her. Instead, it began its own shift. Strangely, it never thought to do this on its own, but its shifts were always a knee-jerk reaction to seeing creatures larger than itself, or standing on two legs. It couldn't get as big as this individual, but it could get bigger than it was now, and it sensed from the intruder that--though supremely confident--was not as comfortable in his own skin as the creature itself. It was strange how it detected this in every one. To the predator, all of the other wolves it had encountered lacked something crucial, had something missing. They felt less freely than it did, seemed to have the faces of wolves, but not the hearts of wolves, there was something that defied lupinity in their eyes and movements...they weren't quite natural. In neither of his mental states did Brennt have the cognitive ability to appreciate the symmetry of the experience, how--as the wordless predator--he saw them the same way as they saw him: incomplete.
The shift began, but it would take a few minutes. Something in the way the predator held itself suggested balance and precision...hinted at supreme competence, that intimidation or lies or threats would do nothing, that its mind and body were one. Anything its body could do, its mind would have it do. Even now, in mid-shift, it seemed in control of its surroundings. Something calculating resided in those eyes, so unlike the slow and stupid Brennt the black wolf had never met, a look which could be recognized in any hunter who was analyzing prey. The creature did not recognize either of them as 'people,' they were food, prey animals, one who was weak and ideal, and the other, the big buck who made the rare stand to protect the smaller. Wolves hunted animals bigger than they were all the time. Only its lack of an accompanying pack gave the predator pause before its attack.
Backing away, wordless, the inhuman eyes of the monster stared hungrily at the girl at the monster's feet, but knew better than to make a dash for her. Instead, it began its own shift. Strangely, it never thought to do this on its own, but its shifts were always a knee-jerk reaction to seeing creatures larger than itself, or standing on two legs. It couldn't get as big as this individual, but it could get bigger than it was now, and it sensed from the intruder that--though supremely confident--was not as comfortable in his own skin as the creature itself. It was strange how it detected this in every one. To the predator, all of the other wolves it had encountered lacked something crucial, had something missing. They felt less freely than it did, seemed to have the faces of wolves, but not the hearts of wolves, there was something that defied lupinity in their eyes and movements...they weren't quite natural. In neither of his mental states did Brennt have the cognitive ability to appreciate the symmetry of the experience, how--as the wordless predator--he saw them the same way as they saw him: incomplete.
The shift began, but it would take a few minutes. Something in the way the predator held itself suggested balance and precision...hinted at supreme competence, that intimidation or lies or threats would do nothing, that its mind and body were one. Anything its body could do, its mind would have it do. Even now, in mid-shift, it seemed in control of its surroundings. Something calculating resided in those eyes, so unlike the slow and stupid Brennt the black wolf had never met, a look which could be recognized in any hunter who was analyzing prey. The creature did not recognize either of them as 'people,' they were food, prey animals, one who was weak and ideal, and the other, the big buck who made the rare stand to protect the smaller. Wolves hunted animals bigger than they were all the time. Only its lack of an accompanying pack gave the predator pause before its attack.