09-13-2012, 10:34 PM
Words; 215
An evergreen gaze. A long, lithe body. A fur of ebony, gray, and moonlight silver. These were her traits- her identity. No other canine in existence could match her. Two pairs of small, sleek paws moved as one, carrying her well-curved figure closer with each passing second. Cold breath swirled from a sleek, narrow muzzle. The she-wolf had her sights on a rather plump rabbit that was nibbling on some fleshy green grass. Night had fallen- her favorite time for hunting. Nighttime was the only time that Lyris could feel her best. The cool breeze and evening scent rejuvenated her soul. When her concentration was at her peak- as of now. The canine continued creeping forward, putting every skill she had into practice. Now she could almost press her ebony nose to the rabbit's smooth, russet pelt. But that wasn't her intention. Hind legs coiled, and before you could blink, the gal had shot forward, pearly whites bared maliciously. Before the poor soul knew what hit it, it was good as gone, hanging limply for Lyris's graceful jaws. Now that's what she called hunting. Unaware to the two other Luperci's in her presense, Lyris Stryder carried her catch to the edge of a small clearing, where she settled under the moonlight and began to feast.
An evergreen gaze. A long, lithe body. A fur of ebony, gray, and moonlight silver. These were her traits- her identity. No other canine in existence could match her. Two pairs of small, sleek paws moved as one, carrying her well-curved figure closer with each passing second. Cold breath swirled from a sleek, narrow muzzle. The she-wolf had her sights on a rather plump rabbit that was nibbling on some fleshy green grass. Night had fallen- her favorite time for hunting. Nighttime was the only time that Lyris could feel her best. The cool breeze and evening scent rejuvenated her soul. When her concentration was at her peak- as of now. The canine continued creeping forward, putting every skill she had into practice. Now she could almost press her ebony nose to the rabbit's smooth, russet pelt. But that wasn't her intention. Hind legs coiled, and before you could blink, the gal had shot forward, pearly whites bared maliciously. Before the poor soul knew what hit it, it was good as gone, hanging limply for Lyris's graceful jaws. Now that's what she called hunting. Unaware to the two other Luperci's in her presense, Lyris Stryder carried her catch to the edge of a small clearing, where she settled under the moonlight and began to feast.