[oom] Hunt (Cubefall, Day Three)

[hell_in_highheels]

For once, River is actually awake before Richard.  Her whole body is flush with excitement.  Today she takes the final step.  Today, they will visit the Library and find a book with a full moon and prey, and she will hunt beside him for the first time.

She watches him as he sleeps.  Watches the way his chest rises and falls.  Watches the dreams flicker across his face.  She knows about the nightmares, knows there are times when he relives that night over and over again.  But tonight she thinks she succeeded in wearing him out, as he is sleeping as soundly as she's ever seen him sleep.

She casts an eye at the clock.  It's a quarter of five.  She can wait forty five minutes, she thinks. 

And so she waits. 

And watches.

Comments

[hell_in_highheels]

She bumps Dam back and moves to brush against her mate, rubbing her muzzle against his shoulder. Sorry. Please don't make me wait. I'm strong. I can do this. Please?

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He stands tall and unmoving for a moment but finally bends down to nuzzle her ear.

All right. Stay quiet. The scent is strong and we're nearly there. Watch your paws.

And then it's back to creeping slowly forward so as not to startle what they're hunting. It really isn't much further and the black werewolf freezes and hunkers down the moment the young buck is in sight. Dam crawls forward at his side, alerting on the animal but holding his place for now.

[hell_in_highheels]

She does watch her paws, freezing when he freezes, and then very carefully creeping through the undergrowth on the upwind side of the buck. The smell isn't as enticing here, and she can think more clearly.

The creature's head comes up and it looks almost directly at her but she is the same color as the leaf litter, and keeps her eyes downturned. She does not even breathe until it goes back to grazing.

She crouches down, quivering with restraint, her body poised like a nocked arrow, ready to let fly. Finally in position, she looks to him, waiting his signal.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He's tempted to try tactics, but tactics with a puppy is like asking Dam to stop panting. It could be done, but not easily nor for long.

Better to rush the animal, get in a hard strike, and follow the blood trail if that doesn't take it down.

Go. He bursts from the undergrowth, catching the tips of his claws in the deer's side, trying to pull it down. Dam comes in on the other side, jumping high to avoid the flash of rear hooves.

[hell_in_highheels]

River follows, angling behind Damocles, all her power focused on prey, not really knowing where or how to hit.

Instinct takes over and she feels herself leaving the ground, aiming for the only vulnerable spot she can see as the deer flees. Her claws slash into the soft white belly. She smells blood and lunges again, her jaws clamping on a hind flank, but her grip is no good.

The buck chambers the leg and in an terrified frenzy, lashes out with razor sharp hooves, catching her across the muzzle, slicing her open to the bone.

She yipes, tumbles away, coming up snarling, more determined than ever to see this thing ended.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

Dam's latched onto the withers of the animal, weighing it down. He's on his hind legs, hopping along with the deer to keep clear of its hooves.

Richard rushes forward, fixing his claws in the back of the deer's neck this time, gripping tightly. He ducks low, nearly crouching, then snaps up again to catch its throat, biting hard.

[hell_in_highheels]

She watches as the arterial spray coats his muzzle, watches the creature crumple and fold beneath the power of his strike. It's over and done with by the time she catches up, and as much as she wants to rip into that flesh, something makes her hold back.

It's not her kill.

The hunger twists inside her and she howls her frustration at the sky.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He looks up at her a bit startled, ears pricked forward as he licks the blood off his snout. Then he snorts and moves in on the deer's abdomen, ripping in to get at the liver.

Won't take long, Dam pants next to her, giving her a bump. Once he starts on the liver, then we can eat too.

Damocles is right: it doesn't take long till the black has the intestines sprawled across the ground and is pulling out a deep red smooth looking chunk of meat.

Kay, now we can eat, Dam says happily, starting to creep in at Richard's side.

[hell_in_highheels]

The blood smell is enough to drive her mad all over again, but she waits until he looks at her again. Dam is getting his mouthful and still she waits. Lower than the dog in the pack hierarchy. She does not like this.

Finally, he glances at her and she crouches, teeth bared, ears pressed flat against her skull, her own blood running down her cheek.

Hunger gets the better of her and she darts in like a shark, tearing off a hunk of meat and backing away again just as quickly, swallowing it whole.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

Neither male pays her any mind, both intent on their own feeding. Dam, at least, carefully avoids whatever area the black werewolf is chewing on. The dog works at the rib cage, pulling off strips of meat and cracking bones to try and get at the heart and lungs within. Richard is still in the guts, pulling out the kidneys now.

If it weren't for their black fur, both of their faces would be stained red.

[hell_in_highheels]

She edges in, baring her teeth at the dog, backing him down. Her jaws fix on flesh and bone and she tears, rips, crunches until the dark meat of the heart is exposed. Her fur is paler than his, and the blood stains it black in the moonlight. She feasts, losing herself in the feeding, her hunger only sated after long minutes. When she's done, a considerable portion of the carcass has been stripped clean.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

Dam's stomach is smaller than both of theirs. Even picking at the edges of the kill, he's full long before either of the werewolves. He lays off to one side, drowsily licking his muzzle clean.

The black one pulls off the femur, daintily stripping off the last of its meat before cracking the bone to get at the marrow within. It's a last treat; there isn't enough left on the carcass to make it worth bringing back to their makeshift den.

[hell_in_highheels]

Her ears prick at the crack of the thick femur bone and she comes to investigate what he's doing. She makes eye contact, and blinks, but does not look away as she moves close and starts washing the blood from his face.

My mate.

Even in canine, the sentiment is quiet, as if more spoken to herself than to anyone else.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He keeps his jaws tightly clamped on the bone, but otherwise makes no move to stop her. His ears splay sideways, relaxed, and his eyes close as she cleans his fur.

Contentment is all through his sprawl and scent. Eventually he drops the bone (placing one hand on it possessively) and returns the favour. Practise with Dam means he knows how to get into all the nooks and crannies.

[hell_in_highheels]

She lays next to him across the carcass, closing her eyes and holding still to let him clean her. She laughs a bit as he gets into her ears, and she has to shake them out again.

One clawed hand reaches out to rest against his broad chest and she sighs contentedly, resting against him.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

Good chase. You did well. All three of them are a bit meat drunk, and they doze half the night away before heading back to the stand of thick trees. Dam gets pounced by the black werewolf there, held down while he's thoroughly cleaned by both of the werewolves.

The alpha leads them in packsong, testing the area for other wolves. When none respond, they play a game of chase, an excuse to get out and explore the territory. The males both approve of the lack of demon rabbits.

Satisfied that nothing is terribly out of place, they settle back in the hollow and sleep, waiting for dawn to come.

[hell_in_highheels]

She curls up with him, long chin hooked over the crook of his elbow, content even with his breath whurfling in her ear. It's all right, she used to his snoring by now, and probably couldn't sleep without it.

Her dreams are interrupted by a searing pain, a twisting in her gut as her body rearranges itself. Her claws dig into his arm and she holds on, feeling him ripple and tense behind her. For whatever reason, perhaps because she was relaxed, or perhaps because she'd been through the transition once, it didn't seem to last as long this time.

When she opens her eyes, the world is again in color, and she's back in human form, trying to remember her dreams of running wild through the forest with him.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

Normally, Richard would be rolling over to go back to sleep, but somebody dug their claws into his arm. Sure, it's healed now, but that doesn't mean he hasn't still got blood dripping down.

Ow, he says plainly, giving her a look. His scent'll tell her he doesn't really mean it.

[hell_in_highheels]

Oh love, oh I'm so sorry, she answers, her scent a bright pulse of terror, afraid that she'd actually injured him. But the wounds are closing up right before her eyes, and his blood is wet on her hands. And it smells good.

There is no conscious thought as she bends to clean the blood away, her tongue laving over his skin. Her eyes close and there is a quiet, almost awed, hum on her lips.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

There's a pleased deep little hum of his own in return. He lifts a hand to run through her hair, a little smile on his face. Feeling all right?

Dam stretches and yawns on his other side before resting his head on Richard so he can see them both.

[hell_in_highheels]

Tired, she confesses, closing the distance and nuzzling his chin before kissing him gently. He fills her senses, and her scent ripples with contentment.

Her hand reaches out to idly ruffle Dam's ears before coasting up to curl around Richard's back.

We did it.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

Yes. He smiles lazily, a hint of concern in his scent.

You...liked it?

He's holding his breath.

[hell_in_highheels]

She can smell his worry, and she smiles, bringing a hand up to stroke his cheek. I loved it.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He exhales, grinning.

Good. He nuzzles her, resting his head at the crook of her neck. I am happy you had fun.

[hell_in_highheels]

She nestles close, pressing her nose into his hair.

It seems like a dream, and I wouldn't call it fun, necessarily. But it was -- exhilarating. Necessary. Everything she thought it would be, and more. Terrifying and difficult, but joyous as well.

It felt -- right.

Like this feels right, huddled in a bower at the base of old oak trees, surrounded by the earth and the forest, and by her pack.

Though it is a bit drafty.