Curosity Killed the Cat. . . Or Did It?
Skinwalkers Name: The Silent Death
Skinwalkers Cert Temper: Calculating
Feline's Name: Darkheart
Feline's Personality & History: Darkheart is a solitary creature. It's not that she doesn't like company, she's just very socially awkward and just has no idea what to do with others when they're around her for a while. She is most comfortable by herself, prowling about at night under the soft moonlight, revelling in the silence and beauty of the land. Crouching down, stalking her prey, feeling strong and alive. That's what her life is about. Others just... complicate things. And she doesn't like complicated.
She'd been born in an average-sized litter to a caring mother. She'd raised them well, weaned them off at the appropriate time and then freely let them stay with her. Usually mothers wouldn't chase off their kittens unless forced to, either by harsh conditions, or when they next get pregnant if there are insufficient resources. Temporary family groups are very common. But Darkheart had always felt cramped by them. Too many cats getting in her business, ruffling her fur when she just wanted some peace. Once her brothers started to leave, she just slipped out one night. Sometimes she thinks back on her mother, but there is no regret. It's the natural way, for the children to leave the den one day. Sure, she misses the warmth of their flanks and the knowledge that others care about her, but honestly? She can barely remember their faces now, they are just fuzzy shapes from her adolescence.
Ever since she's been a fierce hunter, spending her time revelling in the chase and just surviving. Every once in a while she'll come across a handsome male and they'll have some fun, she'd even raised a couple of litters of kittens herself, but she'd always chased them away once they grew old enough to fend for themselves, pleased to return back to her familiar solidarity. That's her life, and she loves it.
Feline's Last Day:
I'm just a cat. A cat stuck in a dog-eats-dog world. Except me? I'm not even being eaten by a dog. Or a cat. Look at this. I'm being stared down by a freakin' pony.
It had been a day like any other, except maybe there was just a slight twinge of chilly foreboding creeping in on the wind. Winter was setting in fast, and I wanted to be ready for the incoming snow. Because hell, knowing my luck it'd start chucking it down tonight. Maybe that was why I could feel the ice in the air, feel it stiffen my hair until it rose across my spine like protective spikes, ready to impale whatever the season threw at me. I'd been trying to hunt extra, working on putting on the pounds. Every day, all day, I spent on the hunt, prowling for any morsels that happened to come close. Mice, voles, the occasional bird. The thought of catching something bigger, say a rabbit, maybe a pheasant, sent saliva dripping from my jaws.
Prey had become scarce lately, there was a good chance I'd have to relocate soon. The food supply had become so poor I'd had to chase off my own offspring not a few months back. My heart twinged at the memory, but I stiffened my resolve. They were better off on their own. Besides, I'm not the group-living type, only so long you can put up with their mewling for before you want some damn peace and quiet. Luckily they grew up fast, only needed two months before they could manage on their own. I'd kept them till they were four months just in case, but that had been enough. Maybe they were doing better now, maybe they stuck together and found somewhere seething with prey. My heart lurched in my chest. Damn kittens. Always get you so sentimental. I shrugged, trying to throw off the emotions. They would only weigh me down. Besides, survive this cold and I could find another handsome tom for the night, get myself another litter. Yeah, that might be a nice plan.
But for now I have to concentrate on the hunt. I raised my head, filtering out the scents that wafted to my delicate nose, passing them slowly over my scent glands. Nothing, everything was faint and muted. No hint of any animals nearby. My stomach complained audibly, the growl resonating through my chest. What a brilliant start to the day. But I had to press on, what choice was there? I made a mental note that my scent markers were getting weak. I'd have to remark the boundaries, make sure to keep others out. With prey so scarce, I'd have to defend my borders if I wanted anywhere to hunt.
I prowled onwards, keeping my head down and close to the ground. The soil retained the scents far better than anything else. The wild smell of the undergrowth flooded my senses. I absorbed the smells, sounds, sensations, and became one with the forest around me. But something was off. I turned my head slightly off to the left. Yes, there. The scent was undeniable. Like rolled oats and fresh pastures all piled into one overwhelming horse smell.
But something was off about it. I didn't have time to process it before the creature stepped out in front of me. Damn it! It'd hidden downwind. I cursed under my breath. I wasn't used to be hunted, I was the hunter damn it. And judging from the smug a** grin on the horse's face, it'd definitely been tracking me. I dropped into a crouch, teeth bared in a snarl. And that was how my life ended. A few flashes of battle later, the hard crunch of a hoof against the side of my head, and then nothing but blissful ignorance...
