Whisper Marsh Night of the hunter

Late evening, dim-light, windy

A calm breeze snaked through the trees, hissing a serpentine tune into Xander’s listening ears. Russet ears flickered, that noise was distracting. Right now, the young male was focused on trying to catch a small meal for himself: a duck would do, like the one he watched bobbing contently along the surface of the muddy marsh water. It was rare for the male to hunt after waterfowl, but in the harsh grips of winter, he couldn’t afford to be picky. He had kept himself close to Grizzly Hollow territory, not wanting to stray too far from the pack. It limited him in which territories he could roam and thus also had an impact on the prey that he could target. Amber eyes studied that bird eagerly, paying great attention to its behaviour. If he could catch the duck off guard, he would have a greater chance of hunting it successfully.

He had positioned himself by the edge of one of the watery pools which lay scattered throughout the marshlands. The male had been sitting there for hours, silently watching and waiting for the perfect opportunity to arise. This duck it seemed, was busy feeding and Xander watched it curiously as it dipped and dived into the murky brown water in search of vegetation. It was completely unaware that just a few metres away, a predator lay in wait, camouflaged by the tall dead grasses and obscured beneath the shade of the woodland trees. Salmon-pink tongue swept hungry along his onyx lips as the young male grey restless and impatient. A shallow breath sighed past his parted lips: the time to strike would come; he just had to hold his nerve until then.

Soon enough the bird moved in closer to the water’s edge, still naïve to Xander’s advances. The young male shuffled forwards silently, his bright eyes trained on the bird which quacked calmly upon the water. Success was just a few moments away, Xander could almost taste it. He would wait for the bird to paddle in a little closer and then lunge out from is cover. The duck would be met with a frenzy of hungry fangs and the predator would have his prize. The outcome looked certain. He flicked his tail confidently as pressed his paws into the soft mud, ready to strike, his mouth watering in anticipation.

(This post was last modified: Dec 29, 2012, 03:23 PM by Xander.)

You can decide if he steals Xander's duck or that Xander will take the duck for his own x)

There night came again. As his stomach growls the beast would go on it's command. Searching for a descent meal. A though task for a loner in winter time. Though but not impossible. His white silver pelt was his invisible cloth that might bring him food. That and five years of experience. Some days ago he came into this marsh. Pools half iced yet with a good layer of snow here and there. The wind brushed against his fur. For the outside world he was just snow with eyes. He would be snow with eyes for some longer time. Silver eyes were locked onto his future meal may everything go the way he wanted. The wind was strong, if it would change the wrong direction his scent would be discovered before he could even take a bite. Crawling closer towards the water stream he observed his surroundings as a hawk above the air watching for a snowrabbit. Seeing the duck peacefully floating in the water. Soon the waters wouldn't be so peaceful anymore. His muscles tensed softly ready to do a kick-start. He had to react perfectly as water would slow him down. If he had to spring for a escaping duck water could hinder his movement. It was in his eye corner what gave a extra obstacle. A wolf of cream's and browns faded with the dead grass around him. Following it's gaze he could see they preyed on the same creature. From the little he could see the wolf seemed smaller than him, so he had the speed. Did the stranger wolf already spot him? He guessed not, it seemed more focused on it's prey, however Rain wasn't certain. One thing was clear, the one who would make the kill had the food. In that way it would be him to go first. Snow whirled up as the silver man shot from his hiding place. Using his long trained legs to shorten the little distance and jump toward the panicking duck. Water rippled as the wings hit the liquid surface. It wanted to escape to the air. Rain had already set his paws from the muddy underground knowing the water would slow him down in the golden seconds. His fangs were shown and his jaw was ready to lock it into duck-flesh. May it work his way his teeth would drill into the feathers within seconds to go.

Lean muscle’s tensed, ready to spring the male forwards at any moment. Xander listened the steady strumming of his heart as it slowly counted down the seconds until he would make his move. Pupils constricted as keen amber eyes focused sharply on the floating waterfowl, tongue sweeping across his lips eagerly. Three, Two, O ̶ .. A sudden flash of white erupted from the corner of his eyes, followed by a moving white blur. Xander had hardly any time to process the situation before he broke free from his hiding place and lunged his body forwards in the direction of the commotion, and his escaping meal. His ears picked up the crash of water and the terrified cries of the duck as the object, he now recognised to be another wolf, clasped it between his jaws. Xander’s fur bristled, a scowl snaking up the bridge of his muzzle as he plummeted into the water and splashed towards the white male. Paws outstretched and claws sharpened, with a flash of fangs, Xander leapt to strike the other wolf square in the chest.

His aim was to startle, if not barrage, the other wolf over into the water. If he succeeded, he’d plant his large paws on top of the male’s abdomen and attempt to pin him down in the murky marsh water. This would then hopefully give him a few moments whilst the male struggled, to steal back the duck and retrieve what was rightfully his. He didn’t know where this other wolf had come from, or how long he had been there, but Xander stubbornly decided that he had been there longer. He wasn’t about to let the arrogant male think he could just turn up and rudely disrupt his hunt - stealing his prize no less.