were all just scars in the making
Word Count → 361
Naked tree branches reached up, clawing into the somber grey sky as if to slash through to sunlight. Wind howled frigidly as it whipped across the foliage, skating across the heaps of snow and sending a cold shiver through the tawny female’s spine. It was as cold a day as any for early winter, and the clouds above whispered to her the news of future snowstorms. The freezing weather had not caused too much stress lately, as most of the packs were prepared for the annual chill, but she still somewhat uneasy at the thought of figuring out where prey would be plentiful on the peninsula. The small creatures would have fled underground, and anything much larger than a fawn would require some teamwork.
Sky-blue eyes sly, her expression transformed when she stepped through the bushes, careful not to rattle them with her tail or catch any fur on the slim twigs. There was a herd of deer in the area, turned grey-brown with winter coats and obviously feeling the effects of the weather. Nibbling at bark, browsing more than grazing now, the herbivores moved slowly through the snowy forest unaware of the predator trotting patiently in their wake.
Silently, Vesper loped forward then broke out into a ground-eating canter, checking her balance as she crossed one of the icy streams. Here, she paused, surveying the herd and attempting to pick out a deer weaker than the others. The closest was a young buck, sporting only one additional prong on his antlers which had yet to fall off. He was thin and fragile, with a wound on his shoulder that could only have been caused by overeager sparring with other stags.
She dropped into a crouch, memorized the space between her target and the others, then galloped forward with jaws snapping and mane erect. Her wolf-sized secui body drove like an arrow into the midst of the herd, her strong jaws aiming for the buck’s leg. She missed by a few inches but didn’t mind as her quarry fled; she simply loped after him, tongue lolling. She had endurance on the deer, and this hunt was, after all, a waiting game.
Vesper Optime by Nat; table code from the Mentors!
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