afiyet olsun, arkadaş

Levent Kartal · 06-22-2012, 11:13 PM

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they took for granted your soul
and it's ours now to steal

Levent goes OMG BIG KITTEH <3 And I know how stupid this wait has been. ;__;

Word Count → 459

Exhaustion flooded the male; it was all he could do to bring the chunks of meat he carved off to his mouth, and he ate but sloppily. Blood spattered the nape of Wilson’s neck as the feline crouched beside him, but he didn’t seem to care. Food was not taken for granted by the pair; while Levent could hunt as well as the average wolf, he was also conditioned to find a meal through other means such as bartering or the sheer luck of meeting a generous stranger. He was only as successful as the next guy, and more often than not they went to sleep with empty bellies.

That would change now that they had a pack, Levent realized. He tugged the cloth off his wrist and wrapped it back around his head, taming his dark hair. It would be easier to pay attention to relationships and the civilized side of his nature—as well as the beast that hungered for something beyond meat. Sure, he had responsibility as well, but packs wouldn’t have caught on for their ancestors if there were no benefits, even now as it was more organized group than family rabble.

Chewing, the Turkish man let his pale blue eyes fall shut. He might have drifted off into more daydreams if not for the sudden whip of a tail against his ribs. He blinked and looked up, seeing a hulking shape at the edge of the trees where the pair sat. Wilson was absolutely shaking, and Levent stroked his white fur gently as he stared at the shadow—some sort of great cat, though it was bigger and bulkier than the North American lions he’d come across.

But then the mystery feline edged forward, and Lev could see it—massive muscles and a tundra frame, orange fur striped with bold black. “Bir kaplan,” he breathed, and stood slowly as he looked across at the big striped cat. His heart thundered, but it was excitement rather than terror, like any luperci might feel at facing a non-native beast as menacing as this. It only intrigued him, he who’d perhaps seen an abused tiger at a menagerie and whispers of them elsewhere in Asia. For some reason, he didn’t think this one would be that dangerous. He wasn’t blind, and he knew some of the shadowy stripes along its sides were signs of ribs.

“Do you speak any English?” Levent asked, his blue eyes wide but soft and curious. He stepped forward without a trace of fear, even as Wilson took the time to scramble up the nearest tree and stare. “You poor sweet beast, you look half starved,” he went onward, defaulting to the voice reserved to fluffy yearling kittens and molting parrots and old geldings.

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