Claws sank deep into warm flesh, snagging on hard muscle as the ibex struggled to spring away. A satisfying wrench jerked down her spine as their combined momentum was arrested, her prey's legs giving out under it after a brief struggle against gravity. With nimble swiftness she released her grip on its haunch and latched onto its throat, her deadly fangs slicing flesh as the sheer power of her grip crushed its windpipe. Shallow, wheezing breaths escaped the doe, prompting Mashika to tighten his grip, one heavy paw pressing over the beast's muzzle, hastening its death. When at last the tension went out of the large body, she dropped the bloody neck and panted, catching her own breath now she didn't need to hang onto the ibex tightly.
It was late morning and she was grateful she had managed a successful hunt before the heat of midday made moving about uncomfortable at best, and hunting a really bad idea unless you wanted to collapse from heat exhaustion. Tongue lolling she rose and shifted round to flop back down at the doe's side, her heavy paw slipping form the beast's muzzle to rest on its flank as she licked the coarse fur, still panting but not so heavily any more. She didn't have time to relax, she needed to eat before scavengers discovered the carcass, but she could afford a minute or two to cool down from the chase.
Just as she had started to feed, blood covering her jaw and chest, the scent of a leopard caught her attention, it was fresh. A low growl rumbled up from her chest as she bared her fangs, sitting hunched over her meal protectively. She had worked too hard to just give it up without a fight.
Merah had watched the hunt as a sleek brown lioness had chased and caught an old doe, the ibex had been ever so slightly lame, but that had been all the disadvantage a hunter needed and the kill was clean and effective. Curling her lip as she watched the lioness start to feed, she debated on the option of chasing the female off the kill, but the other feline outweighed her by about 190 Ibs. Swallowing an irritated growl, as she had come out here to hunt only to find the lioness already stalking her prey. Irritated and grumpy (which was not exactly an unusual emotion for her) Merah stuck her tail in the air and stalked forward, following the path she had been on before she discovered the lioness. A moment later she saw the stranger jerk and growl, mantling over her meal. Snorting derisively, Merah stopped and stared across at the female, head and tail stuck in the air, spine ramrod straight. She knew she was outclassed against the lioness, but she refused to be cowed and slink away like some filthy hyena.
Mashika narrowed her eyes as the leopardess stalked along close by before stopping just out of attack distance, glaring at her defiantly. Still sitting hunched over her kill, she curled a lip up, revealing her long bloody incisors in a silent threat. The other female was far smaller than her, but there was no room for compassion or mercy on the savannah. Mashika hadn’t eaten in a week, thanks to a pair of lion brothers that had come through and disturbed the herds and generally made a mess of the place, and chased her from one end of her hunting ground to the other. So now she had finally made a successful hunt, she was damn well going to eat it.
Merah snorted, lifting her own lip in response, showing her gleaming white fangs. But since she wasn’t actually going to make a try for the carcass, she tossed her head and turned away, walking deliberately slowly along the path as it curved away from where the lioness and her kill sat amid blood-stained grasses. Only once she had walked quite a distance from the lion did she relax again, letting her tail drop low and weave from side to side. Her ears flicked forwards rather than trained back to listen for an ambush coming from behind her. Going from defence mode into hunting mode, the leopardess tracked a small herd of gazelle as it milled about a watering hole and then dispersed to graze on the spindly new growth. A hour later she had gotten close enough to launch her attack. Despite having spent her entire life up in the high mountains until very recently, she had adapted well to hunting on the dry grasslands of the arid savannah. Even with her startling white coat which she hid at the start of each hunt by rolling in the dry, dusty ground, not only did it dull her fur, but it hid her scent as well. Something she doubted lions ever thought to do.
Now, only yards away from her target, she lay tense as a spring in the pale grass, watching with unblinking eyes as the gazelle slowly picked its way towards her, grazing without a care in the world. Suddenly it tensed, close enough to scent her even with her disguise in place. Silent as a ghost she sprung forwards, sharp fangs latching onto the delicate throat of the creature, her sleek body curling up away from the deadly hooves as front and back claws sank deep into tawny fur. Moments later, it was all over. The gazelle lay on the ground, panting helplessly as blood and breath burbled from its ruined throat. Merah licked her bloody claws as her prey gasped its last breath, then bent her head to feed.
Some time later, belly full and fur prickling, she stood and shook herself before gathering the remains of her kill up and starting to drag it towards the nearest mature tree. It took some time, for the buck had been big and she was relatively petite , but as with all her species, she was more powerful than her short stature hinted at and she had the kill up the tree and suspended safely among the upper branches within the hour. She herself had settled down in a near by branch and was fast asleep, her over-stuffed body digesting its first meal in days. Below her, a dusty brown lioness padded past, mis-matched eyes glancing up with a faint smile.
Mashika didn’t disturb the sleeping leopard, but passed on by, content to leave the female to her nap as she resumed her constant journey across the dusty plains of the roguelands.
(Words = 1,093)
