08-04-2009, 10:50 PM
[html]
http://i155.photobucket.com/albums/s304 ... -table.png); background-repeat:no-repeat; padding-bottom:235px; background-position:bottom center; background-color:#000000; text-align:justify; font-family:georgia; font-size:11px; color:#FDBC43; line-height:16px">1-2 others only, plz, either folks he knows already or someone new (: @ the ravine
------Situated neatly on their hill, the clan was probably one of the few with little need to fret over flooding. Perhaps encouraged by the abundance of water within the territory (or the excess elsewhere), a small herd of deer had found their way into Inferni. The hybrid had been tracking them for nearly an hour, subtly driving them south. Staying upwind of the herd, he made a series of fresh marks further south that would discourage them from running too far. Circling back around, he crept closer... closer... his large body low, an impressive feat for a seccui.
------When the timing was right, he charged. The herd, only half a dozen strong, took off. Upon reaching his marks, the leader panicked and changed course just slightly--perfect. Dashing along behind them, he slowed to a lope, ears erect as he watched the buck skid to a halt and the does pile up behind him. One stopped too late--the mud was slippery and she went tumbling over the edge of the Ravine. The others scattered but Anselm paid them no heed. His claws gripped the soft earth tightly as he peered over the edge--the waterfall was gushing full force, perhaps even more so. The water level looked a good metre or so higher than usual, and it took him a moment to even spot his quarry in the rapids.
------The tattooed wolf padded along the steep edge, trailing the struggling female until the channel widened, the flow slowed, and the ledges became less precarious. She was still fighting to get to shore, though her efforts were futile. She'd already inhaled far more water than was healthy and Anselm leapt down gingerly to the bank before casually strolling in and grabbing her by the throat. Bracing himself against the slippery rock, he yanked and pulled at his kill until they were on (relatively) dry land. Without wasting a moment to shake off, he tore in to the bowels: the liver, heart, and lungs were gulped down almost at once before he weaselled his bloody snout into the intestines and continued to feast. Every so often, as he chomped on more food, he'd pause to take a quick survey of his surroundings. As the minutes passed, he became less and less concerned; he'd already devoured the most prized parts, and soon he could simply savour the regular meat that clung to the bone.
------Situated neatly on their hill, the clan was probably one of the few with little need to fret over flooding. Perhaps encouraged by the abundance of water within the territory (or the excess elsewhere), a small herd of deer had found their way into Inferni. The hybrid had been tracking them for nearly an hour, subtly driving them south. Staying upwind of the herd, he made a series of fresh marks further south that would discourage them from running too far. Circling back around, he crept closer... closer... his large body low, an impressive feat for a seccui.
------When the timing was right, he charged. The herd, only half a dozen strong, took off. Upon reaching his marks, the leader panicked and changed course just slightly--perfect. Dashing along behind them, he slowed to a lope, ears erect as he watched the buck skid to a halt and the does pile up behind him. One stopped too late--the mud was slippery and she went tumbling over the edge of the Ravine. The others scattered but Anselm paid them no heed. His claws gripped the soft earth tightly as he peered over the edge--the waterfall was gushing full force, perhaps even more so. The water level looked a good metre or so higher than usual, and it took him a moment to even spot his quarry in the rapids.
------The tattooed wolf padded along the steep edge, trailing the struggling female until the channel widened, the flow slowed, and the ledges became less precarious. She was still fighting to get to shore, though her efforts were futile. She'd already inhaled far more water than was healthy and Anselm leapt down gingerly to the bank before casually strolling in and grabbing her by the throat. Bracing himself against the slippery rock, he yanked and pulled at his kill until they were on (relatively) dry land. Without wasting a moment to shake off, he tore in to the bowels: the liver, heart, and lungs were gulped down almost at once before he weaselled his bloody snout into the intestines and continued to feast. Every so often, as he chomped on more food, he'd pause to take a quick survey of his surroundings. As the minutes passed, he became less and less concerned; he'd already devoured the most prized parts, and soon he could simply savour the regular meat that clung to the bone.