|
and why?
|
[html] http://i52.tinypic.com/k20j60.png);background-position:bottom; background-repeat:no-repeat;"> THREAD ONE OF TWO FOR AMY -- fossa commission
The ten-month old had left Trigger in a cave he'd found for them to stay in for the night. It was early morning and there was a cold, crisp fog hanging in the air. It wafted around in the treetops and gently rained down onto Leon's pelt. His bright eyes looked upward and he spotted the shadow of a raven fly from one branch to another before there was another bird's call in the distance. The echo was broken up by the thick branches and evergreen leaves and the snow crunched under Leon's large paws as he glided along the ground. Snow. Something he wasn't used to at all. Along with cold-- he and Trigger grew up in the arid deserts of Arizona, not the frigid North of Canada.
Leon had one of his daggers-- his largest one-- unshielded as he stalked the distant sound and smell of an old doe deer. That would make a great breakfast, lunch and dinner for he and Trigger, especially Trig, since he was a growing boy and needed as much food as he could get. Leon could stand to put on a few pounds himself; he was lighter than he should be now, but he was fine so long as his brother was. He stalked along as silently as he could, taking slow, careful steps to avoid making any loud crunching sounds in the snow.
Finally, he saw the old, boney creature nosing through the snow trying to find buried grass and twigs to eat. Leon's ears went flat and his tail curled tightly behind him. He took one step, then another, and another and--- snap-- the doe bounded away and Leon was left snarling down at the twig he'd stepped on. He might've been able to chase that old doe, but she was already gone. "Cocks," he cursed with a snorted growl. So much for a good breakfast, lunch and dinner.
| [/html]
|
