Post by Dusk on May 8, 2008 12:00:19 GMT -5
Blood Feud
A short story by Dusk...
As the crimson sun sank behind the primeval, crumbling peaks of the "dark continent", an age- old quarrel was about to flare into life once more...
Tonight, there would be blood...
****
Dusk was falling as the spotted assasin feasted, cutting off strips of flesh with his carnasal teeth. The salty taste of fresh blood was warm in his mouth, and he grumbled softly to himself, tail twitching with anxiety. There was no cover here, no trees to stash his kill. The smell of death was ripe in the air, and would not go unnoticed for long...
The messengers soon arrived, circling on dark, splayed wings, feathers spread like fingers. Gathering courage, they dropped to the ground, flapping wildly as they galloped down the grassy runways. They hung back, nervous of the leopard's anger, as they craned their bald, feather-less heads towards the scent of the kill...
With rage burning in his yellow eyes, the leopard charged with a throaty roar. The vultures scattered, feathers flying, croaking hoarsly as the big cat leapt after them, claws raking the air. Watching the birds spread out into the failing light, the leopard turned, growling with smug distain. However, the vultures soon returned, more cautious this time, gathering in the trees like hunched senitals, watching the cat as he ate, with gloomy, sullen eyes...
The leopard ate, but peace was not to last. More scavengers emmerged from the darkness, eyes burning through the gloom. These were not the cowardly vultures, that could be driven off. These were intelligent, confident creatures... and they were superior in numbers...
The leopard's ears pricked up, at the sound of approaching paws over the hard, dusty earth. Hatred burned in his gaze as he recognised his foes, by their shambling, hunch- backed shapes as they moved towards him, heads bobbing. Whoops and cackles rent the air, and the leopard's ears flattened in anger and frustration, his tail lashing. Rising to his paws and snarling threats, the leopard leapt forewards, growling, hoping to scatter the enemy...
They paused... but did not retreat...
Pound for pound, as he was a male leopard, he was stronger, and slightly larger. Yet, he could not risk injury, and he was by far outnumbered. With one last defiant snarl, he turned, snatched a hunk of meat from the carcass, and trotted briskly away, slinking into the shadows, and dissapearing into the night...
****
The Queen was having a good night. After taking the kill from the leopard, they were feasting. Yells and howls could be heard for miles, as they fought for the remains of the dead topi cow. The Queen however, did not have to worry about getting her fair share - she was in charge, so she got the best, the most tender peices of meat, while the lower ranking quarreled over scraps. The hyenas had won their meal by sheer numbers, a clan of twenty animals, led by the Queen, their ruler. Proudly, the Queen lifted her bloody muzzle, and let out a triumphant whoop. The clan had proved it's strength, the sight of their numbers alone had discouraged the leopard...
This was a night for celebration...
****
Under a velvet sky, the tawney beasts padded through the grass, golden eyes narrowed. The smell of blood was on the breeze, and the lions were out for revenge...
For centuries they had feuded, the razor- clawed cats and the steel- toothed hyenas. The creatures were born hating eachother, it seemed. The two species killed eachother whenever they could...
They had been born enemies, and they had stayed the same ever scince...
Twelve lionesses set out with grim determination. Tails lashed with unease, and muscles rippled in the moonlight. Lips were drawn back over white fangs, as they grimaced with the scent of the enemy...
Finally, they came into sight of their destination. A few vultures rose into the sky. It was late now, and they had to roost. Their chance of a meal had been scuppered, but the hyenas were still feasting...
Ears flat against her skull, the matriach of the pride watched the hunch- backed Queen and her followers with distaste. This was a fight they could not win... yet...
Back-up was coming...
****
(UNFINISHED! MORE TO COME!)
A short story by Dusk...
As the crimson sun sank behind the primeval, crumbling peaks of the "dark continent", an age- old quarrel was about to flare into life once more...
Tonight, there would be blood...
****
Dusk was falling as the spotted assasin feasted, cutting off strips of flesh with his carnasal teeth. The salty taste of fresh blood was warm in his mouth, and he grumbled softly to himself, tail twitching with anxiety. There was no cover here, no trees to stash his kill. The smell of death was ripe in the air, and would not go unnoticed for long...
The messengers soon arrived, circling on dark, splayed wings, feathers spread like fingers. Gathering courage, they dropped to the ground, flapping wildly as they galloped down the grassy runways. They hung back, nervous of the leopard's anger, as they craned their bald, feather-less heads towards the scent of the kill...
With rage burning in his yellow eyes, the leopard charged with a throaty roar. The vultures scattered, feathers flying, croaking hoarsly as the big cat leapt after them, claws raking the air. Watching the birds spread out into the failing light, the leopard turned, growling with smug distain. However, the vultures soon returned, more cautious this time, gathering in the trees like hunched senitals, watching the cat as he ate, with gloomy, sullen eyes...
The leopard ate, but peace was not to last. More scavengers emmerged from the darkness, eyes burning through the gloom. These were not the cowardly vultures, that could be driven off. These were intelligent, confident creatures... and they were superior in numbers...
The leopard's ears pricked up, at the sound of approaching paws over the hard, dusty earth. Hatred burned in his gaze as he recognised his foes, by their shambling, hunch- backed shapes as they moved towards him, heads bobbing. Whoops and cackles rent the air, and the leopard's ears flattened in anger and frustration, his tail lashing. Rising to his paws and snarling threats, the leopard leapt forewards, growling, hoping to scatter the enemy...
They paused... but did not retreat...
Pound for pound, as he was a male leopard, he was stronger, and slightly larger. Yet, he could not risk injury, and he was by far outnumbered. With one last defiant snarl, he turned, snatched a hunk of meat from the carcass, and trotted briskly away, slinking into the shadows, and dissapearing into the night...
****
The Queen was having a good night. After taking the kill from the leopard, they were feasting. Yells and howls could be heard for miles, as they fought for the remains of the dead topi cow. The Queen however, did not have to worry about getting her fair share - she was in charge, so she got the best, the most tender peices of meat, while the lower ranking quarreled over scraps. The hyenas had won their meal by sheer numbers, a clan of twenty animals, led by the Queen, their ruler. Proudly, the Queen lifted her bloody muzzle, and let out a triumphant whoop. The clan had proved it's strength, the sight of their numbers alone had discouraged the leopard...
This was a night for celebration...
****
Under a velvet sky, the tawney beasts padded through the grass, golden eyes narrowed. The smell of blood was on the breeze, and the lions were out for revenge...
For centuries they had feuded, the razor- clawed cats and the steel- toothed hyenas. The creatures were born hating eachother, it seemed. The two species killed eachother whenever they could...
They had been born enemies, and they had stayed the same ever scince...
Twelve lionesses set out with grim determination. Tails lashed with unease, and muscles rippled in the moonlight. Lips were drawn back over white fangs, as they grimaced with the scent of the enemy...
Finally, they came into sight of their destination. A few vultures rose into the sky. It was late now, and they had to roost. Their chance of a meal had been scuppered, but the hyenas were still feasting...
Ears flat against her skull, the matriach of the pride watched the hunch- backed Queen and her followers with distaste. This was a fight they could not win... yet...
Back-up was coming...
****
(UNFINISHED! MORE TO COME!)
