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Footpads making little noise on the soft turf, Iopah loped through the forest. The occasional breeze caused the willows reach out and brush against her lean sides. She was covering ground quickly, traveling ever north. She wasn't going anywhere in particular, but trying to outrun something she could never shake. A scent caught her attention. Her head went up and her feet stilled. Twisting in the breeze, a tuft of dark brown fur beckoned to her. Elk. Iopah stood considering, an intent statue. She turned in it's direction, placing her cream-hued feet carefully as she stalked. At a small clearing Iopah paused; It was close. Holding her breath the tawny and muted-gray female peered into the clearing. A young buck foraged, unconcerned. His antlers were growing, probably his first set. They were still sheathed in velvet and he handled them carefully, turning his head awkwardly to avoid brusing them on branches as he ate. He was healthy. No sickness came from him; He was too strong for her to take.
Suddenly the breeze changed direction, blowing into the small clearing. The result was instant. The young bull threw his head up. For a second predator and prey locked eyes. Wary brown stared into calculating golden pupils. As Iopah stared her memory coated one the bucks tines in blood. A single drop fell the grass below. Iopah shut her eyes tightly. When her lids reopened both velveteen tines were again clean. A bluejay screamed a challenge. At the cry the elk plunged back into the willows, leaving the unsettled wolf in his wake. Iopah slowly turned and continued north. As she passed through the swaying willows her mind kept replaying that moment.
The old elk galloped out the valley where he had been hunting. She remembered crouching in surprise. As the great elk swung by her a drop of blood landed on the her face. Her insides froze when she realized and entire tine was drenched in blood. The elk galloped out of sight as Iopah stared down the hill, desperately looking for him. She began to run...
With a shuddering cry Iopah was back in the present. She had come to a border marker. She stared forward and imaged the wolves that would gladly rip her to shreds. For several long minutes she stood, wondering how long it would hurt for. With a low drawn-out whine Iopah turned left and walked along the edge of the Willow Ridge boundary.
Gradually the ground under her paws became water-logged. The scent of marsh flowers permeated the air. She stopped when a front foot was submerged up to the wrist. Ahead of her a shed elk antler lay in the water, it's mate was wedged in a a tree. Iopah griped the antler with her teeth and tugged. It was anchored firmly and did not budge. Sighing Iopah turned and place her vulnerable side against a tine. She leaned into it. Suddenly the dying male's expression sprang to mind and Iopah let herself sink, unharmed, into the cool water. She rested her head a lower tine and waited. She could bring herself to travel no more. She was done.
(This post was last modified: Aug 11, 2012, 05:34 PM by Iopah.)