07-14-2012, 12:25 AM
[html]
The traps were set. The adrenaline was running through his surfer veins. Traps hung from the trees, metal traps laid upon the ground, and leaf traps were basically set everywhere. Just as he was venturing further into the depths of the territory, Alistair almost completely forgot to tell the other members about the traps. Oh well. If they fell into the leaf traps, all they would fall on are tiny wooden stakes, that surely wouldn't kill them (maybe give a splinter or two). The thought of something such as that made him chuckle, mostly because he could picture just about every single one of them falling in due to ignorance...Well, maybe not X'yrin or X'ies. But the rest...How comical!
"Come to me, my pretties..." He whispered under his breath, as he shifted from his luperci down to a secui. The transformation always made his skin tingle, and not in a particularly good way. It felt like....Millions of splinters stabbing into his tender skin. It felt like he was swallowing pins, everything piercing every single part of his body. As the transformation ended, he stretched carefully, testing his least favorite form. He rolled his head in circles, hoping to crack his neck and shake out his furs. He did a stretch similar to a cat, moving his shoulders back and forth (since rolling shoulders for wolves/coyotes isn't physically possible. Finally, he pounced into a brisk sprint, dodging trees and other objects. Once he came back, he would search the traps for the objects of his eyes; prey.
His sprint slowed and his breath was short, as he panted. The scent of prey was strong in his nostrils, thus slowing down to not scare the precious prey, the life source of a pack. He moved with languid steps, approaching the area that the prey may lay, his head aligning with his spine. Alistair's steps were precise as he moved through the brush, bihued eyes narrowed as he approached the scent of rabbit. He moved through a bush, the wind sent his smell downwind of the innocent bunnies. The wind also cause the plants around him to naturally shift with the drafts of wind, thus making his appearance natural and unknown to the rabbits. It was a pair, mated and unsuspecting of their fate behind them.
Alistair made a swift launch forward, reaching his jaws towards their innocent bodies. They were stunned, but in a few miloseconds, they recovered. However, not quick enough to escape his paw nor his jaws. His teeth clenched around the female and his paw weighed down the other, struggling beneath his clawed gripped. His jaws pierced the jugular, and after a few seconds of weak struggle, it collapsed, limp in his hold. He then moved his fangs to the other, quickly ending it's life as well. Blood covered his cream muzzle, his tongue running over his leatherly lips. The metallic taste was naturally upon his tongue, the taste rich and familiar. A sigh came from his chest, as he lifted the prey within his mouth, and went back towards where his traps lay.
The leaf traps worked. Two squirrels writhed on the wooden stakes, piercing through their body. He felt bad, and as he reached down, he ended their life quickly. He filled the leaf traps with dirt, to make sure no one was to fall to their doom. As he came across his metal traps, composed of metal attacked to form a jaws (He original gained the idea from a book picture he once saw, and gained most of the materials from the area that he was from. However, he only gained one rabbit from the traps.
Finally, the traps hanging from the trees. His last catch was a young fawn, making depressed sides as it moved in the grip of the rope. Alistair gave it a sad look, but he couldn't let prey go. Even if it was young. Alistair took his knife, and slashed it's throat. Clean and straight across. It writhed for a moment more, but it's life soon ended. Ali gave another slightly sad look, before removing it from the ropes grip.
As he went over his amount of prey, he was thoroughly satisfied. He did very well for his hours of hunting. He skinned the prey, removing all four. He cleaned the meat, and sprinkled salt all over the prey. He then wrapped the prey back in the fur (after he cleaned it) and put it in his backpack. Alistair gave a solid sigh, attaching his backpack to Dolaidh, who was only a bit away, feasting on grass. "Let's go home." Alistair rubbed her nose, Dola letting out a soft whiny. This was one of the few rare moments that the shared, where they both were gentle and kind to another. He hopped upon her back, and they were off.
End.
<style type="text/css">READ ONLY! / 8+ 812 words
The traps were set. The adrenaline was running through his surfer veins. Traps hung from the trees, metal traps laid upon the ground, and leaf traps were basically set everywhere. Just as he was venturing further into the depths of the territory, Alistair almost completely forgot to tell the other members about the traps. Oh well. If they fell into the leaf traps, all they would fall on are tiny wooden stakes, that surely wouldn't kill them (maybe give a splinter or two). The thought of something such as that made him chuckle, mostly because he could picture just about every single one of them falling in due to ignorance...Well, maybe not X'yrin or X'ies. But the rest...How comical!
"Come to me, my pretties..." He whispered under his breath, as he shifted from his luperci down to a secui. The transformation always made his skin tingle, and not in a particularly good way. It felt like....Millions of splinters stabbing into his tender skin. It felt like he was swallowing pins, everything piercing every single part of his body. As the transformation ended, he stretched carefully, testing his least favorite form. He rolled his head in circles, hoping to crack his neck and shake out his furs. He did a stretch similar to a cat, moving his shoulders back and forth (since rolling shoulders for wolves/coyotes isn't physically possible. Finally, he pounced into a brisk sprint, dodging trees and other objects. Once he came back, he would search the traps for the objects of his eyes; prey.
His sprint slowed and his breath was short, as he panted. The scent of prey was strong in his nostrils, thus slowing down to not scare the precious prey, the life source of a pack. He moved with languid steps, approaching the area that the prey may lay, his head aligning with his spine. Alistair's steps were precise as he moved through the brush, bihued eyes narrowed as he approached the scent of rabbit. He moved through a bush, the wind sent his smell downwind of the innocent bunnies. The wind also cause the plants around him to naturally shift with the drafts of wind, thus making his appearance natural and unknown to the rabbits. It was a pair, mated and unsuspecting of their fate behind them.
Alistair made a swift launch forward, reaching his jaws towards their innocent bodies. They were stunned, but in a few miloseconds, they recovered. However, not quick enough to escape his paw nor his jaws. His teeth clenched around the female and his paw weighed down the other, struggling beneath his clawed gripped. His jaws pierced the jugular, and after a few seconds of weak struggle, it collapsed, limp in his hold. He then moved his fangs to the other, quickly ending it's life as well. Blood covered his cream muzzle, his tongue running over his leatherly lips. The metallic taste was naturally upon his tongue, the taste rich and familiar. A sigh came from his chest, as he lifted the prey within his mouth, and went back towards where his traps lay.
The leaf traps worked. Two squirrels writhed on the wooden stakes, piercing through their body. He felt bad, and as he reached down, he ended their life quickly. He filled the leaf traps with dirt, to make sure no one was to fall to their doom. As he came across his metal traps, composed of metal attacked to form a jaws (He original gained the idea from a book picture he once saw, and gained most of the materials from the area that he was from. However, he only gained one rabbit from the traps.
Finally, the traps hanging from the trees. His last catch was a young fawn, making depressed sides as it moved in the grip of the rope. Alistair gave it a sad look, but he couldn't let prey go. Even if it was young. Alistair took his knife, and slashed it's throat. Clean and straight across. It writhed for a moment more, but it's life soon ended. Ali gave another slightly sad look, before removing it from the ropes grip.
As he went over his amount of prey, he was thoroughly satisfied. He did very well for his hours of hunting. He skinned the prey, removing all four. He cleaned the meat, and sprinkled salt all over the prey. He then wrapped the prey back in the fur (after he cleaned it) and put it in his backpack. Alistair gave a solid sigh, attaching his backpack to Dolaidh, who was only a bit away, feasting on grass. "Let's go home." Alistair rubbed her nose, Dola letting out a soft whiny. This was one of the few rare moments that the shared, where they both were gentle and kind to another. He hopped upon her back, and they were off.
End.
Alistair Gibson
.alistairsurf-header {font-size:30px; text-align:right; padding:10px 20px; text-transform:lowercase; color:#b80dae; text-shadow:#ea125e 5px 5px 5px; font-family: 'Codystar', cursive;}
.alistairsurf b {font-weight:bold; color:#9a4b95; letter-spacing:1px; text-shadow: 0.1em 0.1em 0.2em #c7d2af; }
.alistairsurf p {text-indent:0px; padding:5px 16px; margin:0px;}
.alistairsurf {margin:0 auto; width:500px; background-color:#5c92aa; background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/glUOW.png); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #321f31; padding: 7px 0px 320px 0px; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size:12px; color:#321f31; text-shadow: 0.1em 0.1em 0.2em #; letter-spacing:.6px; word-spacing:.9x; line-height:13.3px; text-align:justify;}
.alistairsurf p b:before { content: open-quote; }
.alistairsurf p b:after {content: close-quote; }
</style>
[/html]