A light drizzle misted the surrounding area in a fine sheen. Dark blue paws slipped on a slick stone as a striped caucassian lioness attempted to drag her prey up the slippery slope. The young antelope was still bleeding. With the added hindrance, it was becoming more and more difficult to get her meal to the little cave she called home.
Just a ways from the grasslands was a tiny oasis complete with a cave and a large enough tree for lounging. As if she had the time. Hunting with a weak stomach and trimmed claws meant hunting all the time. Every time the fawn's head hit a stone, she had to close her eyes just to keep from gagging.
Blood covered her maw, staining the front of pelt and hiding her necklace markings. She didn't want to be doing this, not at all, but she had to eat. But she wouldn't eat it all, she reasoned. Only enough for today and she'd stow it away for later. That was the plan.
