Sex: Malespeech He had been at the borders most of the day, taking some breaks in between when his hunger got the best of him or his legs just needed a short rest. Still, he kept himself close enough that he would be able to reach the borders if trouble arrived. Now, it was close to the midnight hours and the light of the moon was his only source to see through the dark coat of night. Miccah knew it was late, but he wanted to do one last patrol through a new route he had recently created before the gaurdian trudged off to bed. As his paws rounded the last turn of his last route for the night, and he marked the ground beneath him, his muzzle caught a strange scent. The bulky male was instantly alert, and he rose to his full height. His broad shoulders tensed. This was no smell of a pack member nor of a loner. This was the scent of a cougar. Miccah immediately set into a run, weaving through the dark thickets. He was so used to the terrain that he had no trouble finding a route that would lead him to the cougar in the fastest time possible. Bursting through the tangly thickets, he was face to face with a cougar. Taking a few steps back, he bent into a protective crouch. His deep blue orbs narrowed and he let out a ferocious growl. If this beast wanted to get to their pack territory, it had to get through him first. And there was no way Miccah would let that happen. Cougars were fast, powerful animals and this would be a hard fight. The massive black man snapped at the cougar, watching the animal carefully. |
Burtn @DA & Dawnthieves.de - Table by PuppyThief |
There was something wrong. It lurked just at the edge of awareness. More than enough to distract, but hardly anything to chase after. There was no scent on the cold still air and she found no ominous tracks during the day's hunt. Forbiddingly, she found very few tracks. Every trail that she followed lead to an animal deep in it's den. They were hiding from something. Her unease had grown with every hour, expecting the formless sense of danger to materialize before her. It never did and she finally gave up the hunt, jittery with nerved by the time she made it back to her own den.
The usual comfort her den was not there that evening. She paced, waiting for an imaginary shoe to drop. The wind still held no clues and the night was just as quiet as the day had been. But that was no reassurance, it was too quiet. Her pacing became searching, pale legs churning though snow for something to do. In the stillness it was the breeze of her own movements that ruffled her pelt. One by one each pack-mate was spied, then left in safety. None were beyond the border. Far from reassured and goal-less now, she trudged back to the cool hollow of her den.
Her nose hovered just over the floor of her den, about to drop down and loss herself in hazy nightmares when she heard something. Someone running. Common enough, if not for the days quietness. Her uneasiness, having never really left, exploded at the sound of someone running. Tail stiff, she followed the rapid footfalls in the dark. She rushed towards the borders and as the frigid air rushed into her face she could smell cougar.
There wasn't really a plan. As she approached she could see flashes of a black wolf and the cat facing each other through trees. It was distracted and Iopah took advantage of her unexpected arrival. All of her 96 pounds hit the cougars shoulders. The impact knocked the cat sideways and the woman snapped wildly, hoping to cause damage before flinging herself to safety. As she pulled away and towards Miccah the feline reached out and left a thin line of red down her side. A soft growl left her lips as a single drop fell into the snow.
