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 Posted: Thu Apr 08, 2010 9:42 pm
It had been VERY enjoyable to take down a gazelle and not have his entire family waiting on him. While it was nice to eat to his heart's content while they were hungry, waiting on his permission to eat, it was still good to just be left alone. They all went against the grain of his fur in the end. Lapping up blood from his already crimson fur, he went off before settling in the shade, stretching out. The energy he felt when chasing the animal down hadn't gone away, and the desire to take down another gazelle for no reason other than sport seemed tempting enough.
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Posted: Sat Apr 24, 2010 8:50 pm
Nav'hian's face was pulled into a fierce scowl as he walked, his mood as dark as ever. Another female had crept out of hold the previous night, leaving him alone once again. There was nothing he could do about it either, there was no use chasing them now they were gone as they would likely find another male to protect them and keep them safe from him.
The ground beneath his paws was getting ripped up as he walked, his claws digging into the grass as he snarled to himself. The voice in his brain was taunting him again, telling him of his failure and that did little to help his mood at the moment, so much so that he didn't smell the nearby lion male, nor the blood from the gazelle carcass.
However, the smell of a nearby gazelle did tempt his senses, and his eyes jerked towards the scent of it. He needed to attack something, kill it. He wanted to rip something apart, and the gazelle was the perfect target, he thought, with a snarl. His large bulky form, which was admittedly mostly fluff, he dropped to the ground, his body compressing down into the ground as he stalked the nearby gazelle.
It took him only minutes to take it down and kill it, but as he stared at the carcass, there was no hunger to quench on it's flesh. He sneered at it, pushing the carcass away from him, the blood staining his paws and mouth.
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Posted: Mon May 24, 2010 8:13 pm
Soro was much more aware of himself, even as he was lapping up blood between his paws. As a large tongue cleaned his claws, he looked out as fresh smelled assaulted his senses, perking his ears and narrowing his eyes behind his skull mask. It was male, as only male lions could give off such a pungent smell that dominated the senses as they rightfully should, but there was also blood. It said that there was a male lion, hunting, and was successful. This in turn said it wasn’t weak, or at least wasn’t feeble, and he rose up and patted away a fly as he looked out across the prairie for any visible signs for this stranger. Just like the other, he still felt energy collected in his joints, and the taste of blood in his mouth was not enough to sedate his urges.
Deciding that this was a matter of territory not to mention the fact he wanted to see if he was still up for fighting, he started to head off that direction. He made no sign to hide himself by crouching, but stood tall, firm, as he strutted forward with purpose. He meant to fight from the start, even if he met a fighter of a pacifist, male or, if his senses did deceive him, female.
It took a while before he even spotted the other lion, and only by the bleeding animal that was nearby. The other lion, indeed male, had a mane of sun gold and a body of dusty brown, perfectly blending into the tall, dried grass. Soro on the other hand stood out in his rich colors of deep red. It had always been a disadvantage to him. One he made up for in his skills as a hunter.
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Posted: Wed Jul 14, 2010 12:43 am
Nav'hian loved to hunt. It was so...easy to take a life of a gazelle, to relieve his stresses. It wasn't as if it would go to waste either, as many hungry scavengers would pick it up the instant he left eh prey. He helped those who could not hunt and he could get rid of excess energy. It was a worthy pass time.
The only problem was the blood. He sneered at his paws, which were now stained, and he knew his mouth would be too. His fur was light, which allowed for it to stain quickly and badly. He hated having to clean off the blood but it was better than going hungry, or exploding from excess energy or something equally stupid.
He had considered taking a strip of meet from the Gazelle, when a strange scent caught his attention. He tensed, his early relaxed nature, having expelled some earlier irritation on the hunt, had disappeared and he was ready to fight, should something attack.
He turned his head, scanning the grasses to try and spot whatever it was with that scent but could find nothing, except a patch of blood in the grass, a deep red. It took a moment for him to realise that it was not a stain, but something hiding within the strands. A snarl worked across his face, and his shoulders hunched dangerous.
"Who is there?" He demanded, not in the mood to be friendly. How dare someone try to sneak up on him, likely to capture his food. Could they not wait until he had left? The fools.
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