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 Posted: Fri Oct 26, 2007 1:54 pm
Blackness.
Twigs and vegetation snapped underneath his heavy paws as he ran, broad chest ripping through vines and thorns without a care. Blood ran down his entire front in small rivulets.
Blood. Death. Get away.
He couldn’t see. He couldn’t hear. His own lifeforce blinded him. There were voices screaming at him from every direction, from behind every tree, from inside his own head.
Get away. Run.
Come back. Stay. Listen to us.
They hissed in his ears, branch-like fingers reaching out to caress him lovingly. For the first time in his life, Damu’Jicho’s eyes were flooded with pure terror, and his muscles tensed with the dire need to escape. He roared loudly, his voice breaking halfway through and the violent sound echoing in the darkness around him. He had to get out. He was deep in the depths of the forest, lost, much further than he’d ever intended to venture.
LISTEN!
They were growing more insistent now. He could feel them in his head, in his veins. Their taint was creeping into him. He could feel it. His mind was going in and out of consciousness. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.
You belong to us. You are ours. You always have been. It was only a matter of time.
NO!, he cried in his head, his breath coming in ragged pants. He could see light now, just ahead. The light of the moon and stars and open land and anything but this damned forest. He lunged towards it, desperation in every movement. Just a few more feet and he was free. He broke through the last tangle of vines and…
…the world went black.
You are ours.
A large earthen-pelted lion stood just outside the line of forestry, his chest heaving and his fur damp with a mixture of sweat and blood. His black mane covered his dark eyes. His tongue crept out of his panting maw, gathering the blood around his mouth. That same mouth slowly crept upwards in a grin – a frightening grin, something out of nightmares, something not normal. The trembles began along his back where the fur was standing straight up. They raced into his legs as his body stood up straighter, they made his head snap up. They crept up his throat, softly at first, then louder and louder until he was laughing at nothing, yet it held a hint of victory in it.
Moving shakily at first, he moved forward amongst the tall grasses. He tossed his black mane back to show his eyes. They seemed…dead and alive at the same time. Blank, yet there was something controlling them from the darkest regions of his skull. He kept laughing and laughing, each sound growing more manical and louder.
“Kill,” he hissed softly to himself.
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Posted: Fri Oct 26, 2007 2:23 pm
She chose the one.
Slowly her limbs regained movement, and her icy blue eyes scanned the edge of the forest carefully as she moved parallel to it. If she could avoid danger, she would do that. The tormented creature's voice had sounded off somewhere in the opposite direction of what she was travelling now, she was sure of it. She could not be sure of the exact area in which she had heard the roar, but moving seemed better then staying in place. When moving she could easily switch into a run. If she had stayed put it would take a fraction or two of a second to get moving, and in that time fate could have turned for the worst to her. No, she had to keep moving... had to keep moving to avoid danger. Avoid Damu'Jicho.
Her pulse quickened as her heart thudded in her chest. Baala did not understand why she was so suddenly fearful. At every encounter before she had been brave, had achieved the upper hand and thus had no reason to be frightened. But now she had not even seen her potential enemy and she was scared. Every opponent in the past had some semblance of sanity... this one probably had none. She could not talk her way out of danger, and if that lion found her it was certain that a fight would occur. Baala knew her chances, which were slim. She was a fully grown lioness, but even still she was small and vulnerable. Even with the knowledge of how to fight she could not defend herself with her strength. Kiuma had protected her when she could not do so for herself.
And Kiuma was miles and miles away. Baala would not be able to reach her if a fight occured. She had to avoid it.
Her heart stopped.
She had walked right towards him. The roar had echoed, had mixed with her senses. If she had stayed put she might have been able to avoid him, but she had chosen to walk, had chosen her fate. Now she stood, with Damu's large form in her line of sight, and though he was still a little ways away he looked so close. The distance could be closed in no time.
That laughter made her spine shudder. She was right in her assumption that he was not sane. No, this creature was not of a sound mind. Oh, she should have head to the pack, should have faced that danger instead of this one! Anxiously she sniffed the air, hoping that she was upwind. No... she was not. Her scent wafted towards him, carried away on the gentle breeze. He would know that she was there, and if he pleased the situation could escalate. But, instead of fleeing, instead of listening to her fear she stood in place, defended herself on the ground that she stood on. She could pretend to be fearless until fear overwhelmed her so much that she could not control it.
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Posted: Fri Nov 09, 2007 2:09 pm
The large mocha lion had stopped, his massive chest heaving. He'd paused to regain his breath, and to sort through the voices in his head. There was an annoying argument going on in there, and he was doing his damnedest to ignore them all. He would let the others handle the resistant one. They had freed him, of course, along with that one's weaknesses, but he had no obligation to deal with their bickering once he was free. He ran his tongue over his damp muzzle again, relishing the taste of his own blood. So good to finally be free.
The laughter still rumbling in his throat, he pulled his eyes to the sky and stretched. Such a pleasant, clear night. A faint breeze was wafting all around him, stirring his luscious black mane. If he hadn't held that deranged air around him, he might have even been considered a handsome lion out in that moonlight. But who would see anything beyond the insane grin and the rolling eyes that showed the whites? Not that he was concerned with such things. He had one goal in mind, and he had only to find one object to fulfill his desires. And that object happened to be right before him.
The same pleasant breeze that had tickled him before ran under his nose, carrying the sweet smell of a lioness to his brain. He choked off a cackle, raising his muddy eyes to look around him. She was hard to spot on such a night, but there she was. All blacks and yellows and so small and delicate. He licked his lips with a hunger he'd waited so long to fill.
No! Leave her!
"Shut up," he hissed to that pestering lion in the back of his head. He'd had run of this body for so long, it was finally his turn.
Please...please no...
It's begging faded as he moved forward, his motions rigid and shaky at first, but slowly falling into fluid grace. He closed the distance rather quickly, his delight growing and growing as she became more and more distinct. Oh, she was perfect! So small compared to him! But he couldn't take this too fast. No. He'd been waiting for this moment, this first drop of blood. He wanted to savor it.
Running his tongue over his maw again, he came to a stop a few paces from this unfortunate lioness. "Good evening," he crooned, his voice a mixture of purr and laughter. "It's awfully late for a lioness to be out on her own, is it not?"
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Posted: Fri Nov 09, 2007 3:25 pm
She needed to run, and she needed to run now. Every instinct in her body told her that the only way to save herself was to flee, but something held her back. One could call it pride, one could call it mental strength, but all in all... it told her not to turn her back to this creature. It gave him an opening that she was uncomfortable with. Her reservations about giving him her back, though, did not prevent her from backing away from him as he neared her. Moving this way gave her no opportunity to flee, but it showed Damu'Jicho that she was not comfortable around him, that she knew that he was not someone who was safe to hang around. She was suspicious, and rightfully so.
His words and movements were fluid, but the look in his eyes... oh, they gave her chills. But through this fear of Damu she faced him with squared shoulders, with a harsh look encompassing her icy blue eyes. Distrust. Dislike. Intolerance. Caution. Worry. Fear. All these were passed on to Damu simply through her eyes, though she tried to keep her fear minimized. Showing him that she was fearful would only entice him into rash actions. She did not want to wave her paw around and scream 'Here I am! Come attack me!' Showing fear was the equivalent of such an action. She could not show it to him.
"Good evening," she responded to Damu, following the logic that keeping him talking would prevent him from having time enough to strategize against her. She doubted he was one of those rare lions that could think about something entirely different when they were saying something else. Perhaps if she kept him talking long enough someone would come along to aid her in her time of distress. Baala could hope for a sort of... knight in shining armor. She'd perhaps even give her thanks to the creature that came to her aid. But... being rescued was a slim chance, but right now that was also all she had. A slim chance to make it through this situation.
"I usually attempt not to be out so late on my own. I'm usually with my companion." In the underlying tones of her voice there was a hint of a threat. She had told him that she had a friend, and he would have no idea where this friend was. Sure, Kiuma was far away... but if the threat of her presence scared Damu off it would be a miracle, and quite possibly a life saver.
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Posted: Sat Nov 10, 2007 1:23 pm
He stifled the chuckles that arose in his throat as she backed away. She didn't need to hide the fear she felt - he could smell it on her. In fact, he even took a moment to inhale deeply of that musky scent. It sent a delightful shiver down his spine, a shiver that was very obvious and pronounced on his lean frame. To be sure, it almost looked as if he was on the verge of a seizure, but a shake of his black mane and he seemed to compose himself.
He didn't take a single step towards her. With her nervousness, one single move on his part could send her running, and he had no desire to have to chase down his prey. However, his charcoal-tufted tail began to twitch back and forth, like the pendulum of a clock, ticking down the last few seconds of this poor, unfortunate soul's life. He let her talk, though, let her believe that she could maneuver herself out of this sticky situation. There would be no help. Definitely not from the git that had finally receded into nothingness in the back of his head. He was glad to at least get that voice out of the way. It was so discouraging, and didn't want to have any fun at all.
His muscles itched to move. He wanted to be closer to her, to be able to revel in all the emotions flaring off of her, all the ones glaring at him through her eyes. So he did. His muscular body moving with a lethal grace and swiftness, he closed the remaining gap between them, circling close around her body. A hint of the same laughter in his voice, he spoke in a low voice as he passed near her ear. "And where is this companion of yours now?" Oh, he couldn't get enough of this! Could barely contain the giggles that wanted to burst out of his mouth!
He came to a halt very near her, facing her as before. The same wolfish, hungry grin split his normally attractive face. "I'm...Stirika...by the way," he said smoothly. No good to use that horrible birth name the other used. He liked his own so much better. "I don't believe I caught your name, miss?
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Posted: Sat Nov 10, 2007 1:51 pm
He was so... so... big. He dwarfed her by far, and that only deepened her wariness of him. She watched with a slight grimace on her face the way his body shivered with apparent delight. He was enjoying this situation, far more then any sane creature would. The brute liked the way she feared him, she was smart enough to realize that much, but that could not make her halt her fear in its tracks. No, it still raced through her body, increasing quickly in pace until she was nearly positive that her body shuddered with that fear. He just had so many muscles, each clearly displayed with every step he took closer to her. Fortunately he had stopped by now, but she could not rid herself of the memory of his power. He had oodles of it... when she had close to none.
Then he started moving again, and her pulse jumped in her throat. Her nervousness was starting to get the better of her, and she could not stand to have him circling around her. When he got too close to her back, she would turn, making certain that her claws and teeth were in the way of his claws reaching her body. Her eyes remained locked with his own, fear being hidden by false bravery. Silently she was challenging him to attack her, daring him to take the risk and take a swipe at her. She was certain to meet his assault with one of her own. If he was determined to attack her, she was determined to resist. Baala would not go down without a fight.
"Nearby, I cannot tell you the direct location. We parted ways earlier to make better use of the hunting area. My companion should be looking for me right about now." Her ear flicked as his warm breath washed against it, cringing away from him with disgust. She did not bother to tell him anything about her companion because it was better to have him make assumptions. He could think Kiuma to be male, to be huge... and that would work in her favor. Hopefully she could instill some fear into this crazy brute of a lion, and thus make him hesitate before he assaulted her. It would give her time to retaliate, or even flee... and make away with her life.
"Nuksani." It was the name of her mother, a mother that had been dead for some time now. Baala did not mourn her loss any longer, had pushed past it and now lived a healthy life by Kiuma's side. She had fallen into the habit of using the name when meeting strangers that she was uncomfortable around. The name was horrible in reality, meaning 'bad luck'. Bad luck, in the end, had gotten to her mother. A name could surely not predict someone's fate, but in a way it seemed to have predicted Nuksani's mother's fate. She hoped that using the name would not bring her bad luck in this situation. "It is... interesting to meet you."
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Posted: Sun Nov 11, 2007 6:20 pm
"Stirika" couldn't resist licking his jowls. She was so perfect. Her body reeked of fear, yet her posture remained resistant, challenging. He admired her for that, letting his muddy eyes rake over her small frame. When the moment came, he might just even allow her to take a few swipes at him - just to see that bristling, fierce personality. But only a few to make the poor thing feel a tad better. He wanted to taste her sweet blood far too much to play with her for too long. Play would come with later victims - a more brutal form of the classic cat and mouse game. Tonight was no night for games.
The large earthen lion loomed over her, keeping his head far above hers and simply gazing down his nose. "Stirika" was very sure of himself, and fully believed he was superior to all beings. His strength was godlike and could never fail. His looks were devastating. His intelligence was raw genius. In his own mind, he was faultless, immaculate.
He gave a breathy laugh. "I'm sure," he said smoothly, his eyes crinkling in mirth. In all truth, he didn't believe this lonely lioness had a companion. Even if she did, and even if it was larger than he, his overwhelming superiority complex made him confident he could win against anyone. "But I was under the influence that lionesses hunted together?"
"Stirika" flicked his black-tufted tail, taking a few steps closer to her. "Nuksani," he purred, her name almost sounding tainted coming from his lips and in his voice. Though he had no knowledge of the name himself, those helpful ones in the back of his head provided convenient information at times. "Bad luck? Such an interesting name." He could have laughed at his own good luck, and this lioness's vast misfortune. His large body a scant few inches from her own now, he purred down at her, locking his dark eyes into her pale ones, "And it is such a...pleasure meeting you."
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Posted: Sun Nov 11, 2007 6:42 pm
He loomed over her, and she did not quite like it. It made her feel more nervous and edgy, because once again he emphasized how large he was in comparison to her, how much stronger and more powerful he was. Baala's hard life had led her to be miniscule in comparison to the average female lion. When compared to a male lion she was a dwarf, even more so when a male lion was as large as Stirika. At every occassion she met someone who was larger then her she hated it, but usually those she met who were bigger then her they were sane. Baala had other attributes that mattered more then size, and she could master others with these traits. With Stirika... none of these traits mattered. He was larger, and he had one thought in his mind. She firmly believed that all he thought about was killing her.
"We hunt together occassionally, but when we are strong enough we hunt on our own and go for smaller prey. I've learned to hunt on my own from when I was little, and so I'm used to doing it that way and can take care of myself." It was the truth, at least part of it. Baala had hunted on her own for most of her life, but she found it surprisingly easier to hunt with someone else. They caught more prey, ate like queens. Working together, Baala had grown from being weak into being a formidable opponent to... anyone her size.
"My mother considered it bad luck to give birth to me," she told him cooly. Her eyes raised to meet his unfalteringly. They did not waver in fear, but shined with a new confidence that she pulled out of thin air and hoped was sufficient enough to last her through this encounter. "She died not long after I was born, I made her weak. I was her parasite." It sounded a little threatening, and at least planted the idea in Stirika's head that Baala had killed before. Thus, as a killer, she had no problem whatsoever about fighting him. The story, though, was entirely untrue. Baala fed him a combination of truths and lies, making it all the harder to figure out what was true.
Perhaps he would believe that nothing was.
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Posted: Sun Nov 11, 2007 7:43 pm
That pathetic whelp that Stirika had finally suppressed had been a horrible hunter. He hadn't caught a single thing in his entire life. But he? Oh, he was the greatest hunter to ever set paw on the earth. Of course, it was a much different sort of prey, and much more satisfying than simply ending a creature's life to fill one's belly. What about the fulfillment one's soul needed, one's heart, one's mind? The world was so overcrowded anyhow. Couldn't a lion just have some fun every now and then, picking off the weaker to make the species as a whole stronger?
And though Stirika did want to kill poor Nuksani, it wasn't for bettering the earth. It was simply because he wanted her. He wanted to possess her, to see the fear finally rise into her eyes. He wanted to hold her life between his paws and watch it slowly fade. He was picturing it in his head, could almost feel her fur. His eyes widened in their hunger, lending an even more crazed look to him than was already there.
But such a sad history! It only made her that much sweeter. He reached out a paw, coming just shy of cradling her chin. "Now, now, I'm sure it wasn't your fault at all," he said, mocking the tone an adult used to calm a child. "Such a sweet little thing like you couldn't harm anyone, could you?" If only he knew how taunting his words would probably be to the lioness. But all he needed was one little thing to set him off - one thing to flip the switch from creepily charming to overwhelming anger.
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Posted: Mon Nov 12, 2007 1:16 pm
SMACK.
Her paw had came full force against the side of his face, claws extended to dig deeply into his flesh, leaving behind hot red lines of opened flesh. With a snarl she pulled her paw back away from his face, having not assaulted Stirika for personal pleasure, but because he had pressed her too far. The mocha lion had nearly touched her, had brought his claws too close to her delicate neck to leave her with any sort of comfort. In that moment was the perfect time to attack him, to retaliate when he seemed so smug and sure of the outcome. Surely he had thought he would initiate the fight, would land the first devestating blow upon her. Baala wanted to catch him off guard, wanted to tell him that she was not going to put up with his games. If he wanted to kill her, she wanted him to get along with it and stop playing games with her. Baala was not a plaything, especially not for some insane feline!
"You've yet to proven yourself as a killer; I have. I'm not going to put up with you, if you want to try your hand at killing me go ahead." Her hackles rose, a surprising low growl rumbling in the base of her chest. Harsh blue eyes stared up at Stirika, daring him to end these false pleasantries and start this battle. Baala's patience had grown thin, and with him slowly tempting the boundaries he could not have expected her to last long under such pressure.
"I've harmed you. Now, does that make me so sweet?" She had grown tired of waiting, tired of holding her breath in preparation for his attack. So, she made the first move, bending her legs subtly, and with all the force her body could gather in the matter of a second, she lunged at him with teeth and claws. Instead of going for his neck she went for his soft underbelly because his neck was quite clearly protected by a thick mane. Stirika could freely go for a neck, and perhaps kill her in only a few seconds by chooking off her air supply. She did not have such options, and thus had to be innovative. Baala could not go for the quick kill... but without a doubt she would fight for her life with all the power she had gained over the years.
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Posted: Mon Nov 12, 2007 1:49 pm
Stirika's head swung to the side with the force of her blow. He hadn't...been expecting that whatsoever, and it caught him so off guard, he was momentarily shocked. Fresh blood rose from beneath his thick fur, running in small rivulets down his cheek. It was a good blow - one that would leave deep scars. The blood dribbled down into the side of his open mouth, dripping onto his heavy tongue. That metallic taste made his skin crawl in so many delightful ways. His lungs began working faster and faster, his whole body heaving with the amount of air he was drawing in.
His mass of black mane hung over his eyes as his head lowered just slightly. His eyes, previously locked into the ground, shot to the side startlingly quickly, gazing at her through the strands of hair. He listened to her talk, maintaining a perfect silence. There was something bubbling deep inside him. He had wanted the first move, that first taste. She'd stolen that from him. And while it almost made her all that more appealing, it still irked him by quite a bit. The anger coiled and writhed in his veins, like a serpent ready to strike. It rose into his dead eyes, giving them life and a light of viciousness.
"Yes," he said, his voice seething. Her anger made her better, more of a challenge. Blood still draining down his face, matting his brown fur, he snapped his head around, a baritone growl rumbling deep in his chest. He felt her claws collide with his belly, and a massive roar broke from his throat as he whipped his body to the side. He raised his paw high, rearing up on his back legs somewhat, and brought his heavy paw down towards her head.
When hard claw met flesh, laughter bubbled into his angry roars, and his eyes began rolling into the back of his head, showing mostly whites. It was a terrifying sight to behold. As he turned his body quickly to face her once more, he lowered himself to the ground, preparing to spring. He threw all his muscular weight into the smaller lioness, his large jaws seeking her throat in an effort to only gain an upper hand. As he collided into her tiny black frame, he pushed both paws against her stomach and pushed, pulling himself and her to the ground roughly. It was an efficient pin, if only for the fact that throwing his massive weight around made it almost impossible to get free from him.
Shakily, he reached out his tongue to lap at her cheek where his own blow had landed, his body trembling as he tasted her blood. Oh gods, how this was wonderful and perfect.
Easing the rest of his weight down on top of her, he opened his jaws and went for her neck.
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Posted: Mon Nov 12, 2007 2:08 pm
For a brief while she was filled with smugness, because ti was clear how much her attack had caught him off guard. He remained still while she talked to him, while her voice was cold but somewhat melodic, and it pleased her. If she was going to die today, then at least she would die with the pleasure that she had not gone down without a fight. The marks she had made on his cheek would be there for the rest of his life.. never would he forget her, not while the skin healed, while the fur never grew back. Baala had made her mark on the world in the form of those scars. Where ever Stirika went others would look at him and see that for a while he had been bested, that he had let someone else hurt him. For a little while Stirika would be thought of weak, and surely that would hurt his pride... and that gave her pleasure. Immense pleasure.
Then the great bulk of Stirika seemed to fill with life, and she watched warily as his head tilted slightly. When their eyes met, her's met his with unending courage and hate. She was ready for this fight, ready for the end that seemed inevitable. All she was living for right now was to wreak her revenge on Stirika before he did the damage. In death she could not harm him, but in life she could do a lot of damage. The most she could hope for was mutilation, or damaging one of his limbs so much that he walked with a limp.
In her lunge she felt her claws scrape against his soft underbelly, but it was not enough to harm him. Her slap against his face had more force and had done more damage then her lunge at his underbelly. She was disappointed briefly, but in battle there was little room for such feelings. There was barely room for planning one's next moves. A battle only encompassed instinct, delight, and fear. With the combination of those three things there was little room left for any sort of intelligent thinking.
She gasped softly in pain as his paw came down to slap her own face, leaving behind a hot flash of searing pain. Blood that had begun to dribble down her cheek did not have time to fall to the earth, because while she was caught off balance Stirika had pushed his weight against her, forcing her off of her feet and onto the ground. With a grunt she landed, feeling his weight heavy on top of her. Then came his tongue, warm against her cheek, lapping up the blood that had begun to pool there. Her body cringed with pain, and an enraged roar erupted from her throat at this contact. A vulgar curse rolled off of her tongue, and her blue eyes swivelled to him, filled with hate and disgust.
His jaw...
So close...
Was these her last moments of life?
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Posted: Mon Nov 12, 2007 4:01 pm
 These routine rounds were getting somewhat boring for the pale young lion, especially when he would rather be spending time with his mate. Regardless, these rounds were necessary, and both he and his father did them without too much complaining – to upset Bibi was nearly a death wish, despite how much larger he was than her by now. It was just that he never got to do anything during these times – although, he wasn’t sure if he would prefer there to be any sort of action either. Action meant fighting in most instances and he would rather not have to face a family member, even though that was ultimately what his purpose was. Protect and defend was his ultimate goal, and that either meant protecting his family or protecting whomever his family member decided to attack. It was a tough job that weighed heavily on one’s conscience. Thus far, however, Njozi had had no real reason to fight anyone.
He was a handsome lion, no doubt, and larger than a lot of adult lions even at such a younger age. It was a genetic trait, this size, passed down from the mingled lines of royal Pridelander and Kusini heritage. His father had been the first of these mingled blood offspring, the first to display his size. Njozi had been close behind, born at the same time as a younger uncle who also possessed the trait. However, it was for this uncle that his grandmother put him and his father to use – that size paired with his mentality made him a very dangerous lion, although she would never admit to her own son that he had a problem. Did Damu even know? He was sure he must be aware of it on some level at least, although he probably didn’t realize his mother had made an entire order just to protect him.
Luckily enough for the black female that he had previously met, Njozi happened to be skirting the forest on this particular part of his rounds. He had heard the commotion up ahead but originally assumed that it was simply a lioness out here hunting – some of them did prefer to stalk at night, especially those of the brighter variety of pelts. However, as he got closer, the scent of two lions wafted towards him – one he knew well, and one he was vaguely familiar with. Narrowing those brilliant crimson orbs against the darkness, he tried to pick out just what was happening. Of course, in that instant he noticed that the larger of the two lions was Damu – and what was he attacking? An older cub? His breath froze as he realized it was no cub, but that rogue that he had told to stay out of the lands. Did he think he was getting her out just for the hell of it?
He hissed under his breath as he started into a fast lope, the back of his mind wishing beyond reason that his father was here to handle this instead of him having to do it himself. He had taken on the responsibility but half of him had thought that he was honestly never going to have to deal with this, and the other half figured that when he did his father would probably just be there to do it for him. Besides, he had never figured that it would happen so soon – he had hoped to be his father’s size, at least. Taabu was bigger than both he and Damu, at least for now, and it would be so much more convenient if that mocha lion would just appear out of nowhere to handle this. It would be a fight for Njozi to conquer Damu, it would be little more than an inconvenience for his father, he thought.
“Damu!” came the ear-shattering roar, resounding through the trees and over the land, a deep-bellied tremor hard enough to make the ground shake had it been just a fraction of a notch higher in volume. With teeth bared and eyes wide with a fiery gleam that seemed to make them come to life. With one last burst of speed, he shot himself at a hard gallop, and as he neared the pair – he launched. Claws unsheathed slightly and his body well aimed, he felt himself connect with a large form just as he saw those gleaming fangs bared to the moonlight. With a slight growl, he met his target, and the pair fell backwards – Njozi aiming to pin his uncle to the ground.
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Posted: Mon Nov 12, 2007 6:29 pm
Stirika looked down at his delicious victim, the taste of her bloody still tangy in the back of his mouth. He wanted to taste more of it. He wanted to peel her skin back and gorge himself on her sweet flesh. He wanted to watch the life slowly slip from her crystalline eyes. He wanted her life dripping down his paws, matting his fur, mixing with his own blood. The thoughts, so delectable to him, made him chuckle - slowly at first, then louder and louder until they reached a maniacal, hysterical point. They were drowning out his roars of anger as she struggled beneath him. And oh how she struggled - but how he loved the hatred in her eyes. He grinned at her, lapping his tongue roughly over her wounds again. "Hush now," he crooned, his voice much higher pitched now and quavering.
Opening his jaws wide, he lowered his mouth to her throat once more when the musky scent of another lion tickled his nose. His brows furrowed in fury, and his muddy eyes shot up, flicking this way and that rapidly. How dare anyone interrupt his fun! And then he saw him - a large white male his own age, and of his own massive size. He vaguely recognized this being, from what little he could remember of that pathetic whelp's family (the pathetic whelp which was currently very dormant in the very furthest reaches of his mind). His lips pulled back in a vicious snarl as the other began to run, yet he didn't move, still unrealistically confident that he could withstand any attack from anyone. He didn't even move when the other pounced, unwilling to let go of his pretty little victim.
But he had to when that large ivory body connected with his. He tried to dig his claws into "Nuksani" to prevent him from being knocked over, but his grip failed and he fell roughly to the ground beneath the other male. A roar ready on his lips, he tried to wriggle away, but couldn't manage to even barely budge. He opted, instead, for trying to roll over on his back, rearing his head up with open jaws to bite at Njozi's face, claws flailing like crazy. Even though he was at a severe disadvantage, he didn't want to admit it whatsoever. He could feel himself connecting with flesh, but in his frenzy, he had no idea whether he was doing any sort of damage at all. He snarled, his jowls foaming, as he pulled his back legs underneath the other lion and pushed upwards, attempting to spring the other off of him.
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Posted: Mon Nov 12, 2007 6:42 pm
Njozi hissed as he felt the other body connect with the ground, pinning him between his own giant form and the solid earth beneath them. As long as he could get Damu off of ‘Nuksani’ he could deal with his uncle. Of course, that was assuming that the lioness didn’t do anything foolish – like trying to help. He couldn’t keep her off and bring Damu out of this at the same time. He didn’t feel as if she would do something so foolish however, not with coming so close to death. He was pretty sure she didn’t go around picking fights with bigger lions, not with her own form being so small and all. Regardless, she had become a distant worry in the back of his head – right now he had to deal with Damu and his rage. He knew this would come, Bibi had said it would be so.
“Damu, Damu look at me,” he yelled, claws digging hard into the shoulders of the lion beneath him, fighting and riding the wave of his writhing. Those jowls snapped, coming within a hair of his face, only missing tender flesh by inches. He hissed as he realized just how dangerous this was – better himself than her, despite the fact that she was a senseless little rogue that should have stayed away when he said so. “Damu, Damu think of Haba,” he yelled, claws picking up the shoulders just enough to slam his upper form back into the ground – enough to shock him, he hoped. “Come on, Haba, your mother, Taabu,” he yelled, pulling all the names of those he knew Damu cared most about.
He hissed loudly as those legs connected with his underbelly, dragging deep rivulets with his back claws, though he never once shifted his upper paws. It made for quite an odd bucking motion, and he nearly slipped, but scrambled to stay on top of the other. “Damu, this is not you,” he yelled, teeth gritting. It was hard to stare into the face of an enraged family member, whether they were mean or not. He was his blood, his kin. It nearly ripped at his heart – but he had been trained for this exact moment. “Damu, please, fight this with me!” He didn’t know what else he could do. Bibi had said to remind him of his family, the lions he loved – make him remember.
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