Sikulu definitely could get used to this place. As he bounded across the snowy slopes and frozen terrain, he couldn't help but feel like this could be his summer home. Not that the ocean wasn't his ultimate home, but this place was great. It had everything a shaggy, scruffy male could ask for: fresh water EVERYWHERE, plenty of room, and the chance to hunt something that didn't have scales.
When the call went out for fur trappers and hunters across the land, Sikulu had answered it with reverie; he needed the change of scenery, after all. And there was that idiotic old feeling of doing good for someone else. Unfortunately, his hunting skills needed a bit of brushing up. He just hoped his encounters wouldn't be anything too difficult to take down. In fact, he prayed he would stumble across a large family of furry rodents.
What ended up happening on his first day in the Mlima territory was, in short, a disaster. Boy, if his family could have seen what he had done, he would've never heard the end of it. The male hid in the shadows (which were a deep, beautiful violet color, he noted) of a large rocky formation. The soft crunching of snow had alerted him to something a few yards away. He didn't spot it at first, until he saw a white lump hop across the snow. At once, Sikulu's eyes narrowed, and he held his breath. It was a beautiful white rabbit, practically begging to be hunted! He'd seen these before in savannahs and grasslands, but this terrain would be a bit more difficult to navigate.
His muscles were coiled and knotted up in anxiety; the male willed himself to be patient. Slowly, agonizingly, the rabbit became preoccupied with the task of digging in the snow for roots and grasses. It was now or never. Sikulu let loose and flew across the snow at a frightening speed. The rabbit saw what was up and shrieked, bolting like quicksilver over burning sands. The pair of them danced and snared wildly, like the head of an animal and the body following its flow. One of them would tire out, and Sikulu was NOT going to lose his first catch. No matter what.
He later reflected that he should've broken that promise to himself. The prey and predator had ended up skidding over a long stretch of snow that had been frozen over. The rabbit was small enough that she could navigate the slippery surfaces, but Sikulu looked like an absolute fool. His limbs slipping out from under him, faceplanting every few seconds... definitely not royal behavior. He finally snagged a claw on the scrawny animal's back leg, and yanked hard, dragging her back to him. The small amount of victory he felt was short-lived, though, as they tumbled down a small rocky hillside. When he had come to, he saw that his quarry was mangled and shredded. Grimly, the male skinned the animal in silence, feeling guilt and shame wash over him.
His second day, Sikulu vowed to not repeat that mistake again. This time, he would go after bigger game. No more harassing smaller game when there was plenty of larger creatures he could overpower just as easily! He heard other hunters boasting of their catches down in the grassy valley the evening before, and figured he had a better shot. As he hiked down, the male felt his body shiver in delight as the temperature increased more and more. Bahari lions did well with water (no matter what form it took), but he had gotten used to the warmer climes inland. It came with being a wanderer for so long.
The sharp sounds of yipping and cackling cut through the peaceful morning like a hot knife. Sikulu nearly jumped out of his pelt, and quickly ran and hid behind a cluster of boulders. Slowly peeking out, he saw two coal-black jackals dance out from the scrubby grass, tossing the chewed-up body of a bird back and forth. It made his paws itch in mild irritation. Crouching low to the ground, he slowly poured himself over the rocks and pebbles, careful not to upset any. His ears flattened against his skull as the adrenaline slowly began to course through his veins. Controlled breathing. Mute.
One of the two jackals paused mid-game to see the lowered form of something near them. It immediately barked an alarm call to its friend, and they high-tailed it out of there. But the lion was just beginning his hunt: his feet tore through the grass, eyes locked on both targets. They yipped and howled to each other, before turning around. In a desperate attempt to survive, they leaped at Sikulu and began to bite anywhere they could reach. The male snarled and fell to the ground, head slamming the first jackal into the earth. It wasn't dead, but it sure couldn't run now. The second jackal came up from behind, trying to tear the Bahari lion's ear off. He could feel blood spatter across his brow, as he clawed furiously at his prey-turned-predator. With a final swipe, he hooked the jackal's head on his paw, and immediately spun and smashed it into the ground. He gave himself points for that nice little flourish at the end, there.
As he slowly came down from his hunting-induced high, Sikulu focused on the two dead jackals. Their pelts were still pretty intact, not too much damage. These could definitely keep a cub warm, at least. But first, a bit of medical attention. Sikulu licked his paw and gingerly cleaned his ear of any debris or disgusting jackal spittle. Last thing he needed was an infection.
That evening, the lion made his way into the heart of the Mlima Tuokoa lands to present his pelts to the merchant who agreed to take them. He was stunned to find that lions were considered the lowest in their society! Sikulu blinked in surprise as he handed the pelts over to the burly leopard.
"Are you kidding me?"
"Nah. Queen's orders. But I don't think it was right a' her. You lions are pretty great at-"
The leopard paused, holding up the shreds of rabbit fur with an incredulous look.
"... hunting."
END
Numbers:
3: Small, torn and barely useable. Worth 1 point.
6: A fair quality jackal pelt. Worth 2 points.
6: A fair quality jackal pelt. Worth 2 points.
Total: 5 points
WC: 1046