Soma snarled, low in her throat, careful to keep it from reaching her prey not a few paces distant now. She had been stalking the herd of small forest Duikers for hours, gradually creeping closer only to have the herd drift away from her painfully gained position. And once again they had simply grazed away from her, leaving Soma with just as much distance to make up again as when she had started this storm-forsaken hunt hours ago! Fury roared in her veins, but she refused to give up. Yes, she was freeborn, and could have just taken a meal from the pride’s food stores, but she had wanted to hunt, to stretch her legs and eat something she had caught. There was nothing quite as delicious as reaping your own hard work. But that pleasure had long since died, and now only her pride and stubbornness kept her at the stalk.
Once again she carefully crept forwards, paws silent as she slid painfully slowly through the underbrush. Finally she seemed to make some headway, as the herd had found a particularly tasty patch of brush and seemed content to stand still and nibble on the thing. Slowly… slowly.. With every step her chances of making a kill increased, and finally she decided she was as close as she was going to be able to get. Body hunching she tensed, muscles bunching as she gathered all her strength. One of the bucks startled, head lifting, probably sensing the tension in the air, the waiting. With a sudden rush of violence Soma leapt, claws flashing before they latched into the fur and skin of the buck that had been so suspicious a moment ago. Fur flew and blood ran hot and delicious over her fur. Flesh and heat in her mouth as her jaws clamped like a vice on her prey’s throat. Letting the weight of her entire body collapse to the hard ground, front legs wrapped about the buck’s shoulders and her hind limbs tangling with the creature’s own skinny limbs. For a moment they teetered, awkwardly balanced as she struggled to pull the Duiker down and the buck fought to defy its own death. But then with a sudden grunt they toppled, the buck’s deceptively slender body suddenly trapping her under it. But she refused to release her hold, jaws aching now as it thrashed above her. Thin legs jerking and convulsing as its life slowly bled out on its wheezing gasps and weeping wounds.
At length it went still and limp, legs stuck out at odd angles, the muscles under her claws slackening in death. Satisfied it was not going to get up again she released her grip and lay panting for a few moments, regaining her own breath before heaving herself out from under the carcass. Suddenly something rustled at her side, emitting a fearful hiss before, quicker than she could follow, it struck. She had the impression of a long, sinuous body and long needle-like fangs. Wincing automatically she expected the sudden flair of pain somewhere on her body, knowing instinctively that the movement had been a snake. But the moment passed and no pain roared through her flesh, instead she heard a heavy explosive grunt from something large as a massive weight thudded into her and sent her flying. Her eyes snapped open, ready to attack whatever it was that had landed on her, only to freeze in shock at the sight of a lion. A lion she knew, laying sprawled at her feet as if he had purposely threw himself down before her. His ebony mane was windswept and ruffled, his breathing heavily laboured as if he had been running, or maybe straining in pain. Her gaze shifted further, taking in his barred fangs and tightly closed eyes. Ears flat back against his head. Turning her head she grew increasingly alarmed at his rapid breathing, his chest straining, struggling to drag in great heaving breaths that could now no longer be from his heavy impact with the hard ground.
That was when she saw it, the slinking coils of a green and brownish snake that rapidly disappeared into the undergrowth. “Hell.” She cursed, frantically looking round, though for what she had no real idea. It was Holmgeir’s low groan that snagged her frantic gaze, drawing her round to peer down at him. Terror wanted to take hold but she fought it back. She had no idea what kind of snake had attacked her betrothed, but she wouldn’t be helping him by panicking. Shifting he opened his eyes, head twisting to look up at her, concern shining through the pain in his eyes. “Are you hurt?” His deep rumbling voice rasped, breathing obviously laboured though he seemed unconcerned.
“No, but you are.” She returned, her voice sharper than intended, the fear that his life was in danger making her tone harder than normal. His grin, pained but bright, tugged at her heart. “I’m glad… I couldn’t let you get hurt..” He rasped, reaching out with one front paw to cover her own briefly. Heaving himself over onto his belly he grimaced in pain, making her worry deepen. Moving to his side she frantically thought of how to help him. “We need to get back..” He rumbled, as if reading her thoughts from her expression. Nodding she helped him up, supporting his weight as he struggled to find his balance, the venom already streaming through him. Together they slowly and painfully made their way back to the pride, him fighting to get air in past the leaden feeling in his lungs as well as struggling to suport as much of his own weight as possible. Soma tight against his side, in turns scolding him for getting bitten, apologising for him having been bitten, and thanking him for preventing her from being bitten. It was near dark by the time they arrived back at the heart of the pride, Soma barking sharply at the nearest Thrall to bring a healer who knew about snake bites. Despite Holmgeir’s assurance that he was fine and only needed sleep, Soma led him to her own den, taking him inside and helping him stretch out on her bed of furs. As soon as the healer hurried in she moved to the side, but stayed close to her betrothed, reassuring herself and him by pressing close against his back while the healer worked on the bite to his shoulder. Thankfully his mane had prevented the snake injecting a full dose, but enough had entered his system to make him seriously ill.
Soma stayed close by as he recovered, insisting he stay with her in her den when he tried to leave. Bringing him food and water, cleaning his fur when fever gripped him. It was a week before he could sit up again, and another few days until he was strong enough to leave her den for short periods. As time went on and Holmgeir’s health returned fully, they remained together, living, working and hunting as a pair. Their married life had begun and neither could have been happier.
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