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20 Seeds - Adawolfla

By Kantuck Nadie Nata-akon

Stage 5b-Friday, March 15, 2019

(Minor re-write cleared up a few goofs)

--

Day 4; brown eyes stared out of the bushes of box-woods. Near the edge of the forest, she watched, hoping this time to be able to defeat her old enemy; hunger.Always at war with it, but such wars cannot be won, she could only appease it for a time. But no matter how her gray fur hid her, her muscular legs moved her, claws that would rip flesh and teeth that tore. Those was just weapons for the battle. Now, the 4th day, alone, and solitary, she had little choice but to win. Another aspect she was fighting; returning home, but the memories of that day burned through her conscious mind, as she crouched down and watched.

---

"A brace of coneys?"came the angry growl. Her brother's ears folded back, while he bared his teeth at her.

She yelped as he swung his paw. The bone bashing across her muzzle. Exploding stars flashed in her vision, the unexpected blow stunning her senses, and inadvertently causing her to stagger backwards.

"You're worthless!" inevitably came another relentless barrage. "Why if Graybeard was still alive..."

She was nervously holding her muzzle, smelling and tasting blood - her own as it leaked from a minor scratch. The bodily pain remains nothing compared to the humiliation and shame she bore.

An older Fenrar came up and gripped the younger one's arm, "Enough," he growled. "He's gone, it doesn't matter now."

That was a bolt to her heart, "Elder please," She pleaded."The land is getting over-hunted again. We must move to better hunting grounds,"

More feelings came to mind. How distinctively she wanted to say more. His one critical look, that inevitably made her turn, submissively ducking her sore head. Critical words wasn't expressed, but the negative message was stark.

That was the trigger, that caused her to slam the door on their vardo and run in shame. The crunch of her paws over the leaf litter, snapping viciously of branches while bulldozing through the trackless forest, not caring about the terrible outcome. Just the images of her brother and her grandfather's eyes burning into her as they both believed the identical thing - "Omega."

The harsh term was overwhelmingly the lowest any Fenrar could receive and the most shameful. She knew she was the pack's sin eater unless their political status was rebuilt. But how can she cleanse the family shame of her deceased father? The undesirable one who flagrantly violated the most sacred decree of any Plentycael? "Carnivores do not attack two leggers." A simple but taboo rule, and he shattered it. What is worse but perhaps fitting was that the two leggers he attacked, was but a young girl, and her elderly grandmother. Who tricked him into falling into a troth of water they'd used to boil sausages and drown. Twelve years and they still were not allowed in normal Fenrar Society; outcasts until redeemed.

--

She had tracked a buck through the forest. The intoxicating scent of him and the chase. Remembered savoriness of previous fresh blood, and tender venison made her jaws drip. It was all she could allow to keep quiet, behind the bush that masked her own scent with a strong ammonia stink.

The deer was in contrast a mature buck with an extended rack that would inevitably make any hunter burn with overwhelming desire. Powerful, scarred but proud. He represent a dangerous mark; something that shouldn't be taken by a solitary Fenrar but her relentless enemy was so intense at times she couldn't rationalize. Presently he was moving into position. The one place she could strike without a miss.

He inadvertently stepped into that critical spot.

Legs tensed, pupils rounding as they dilated. Body as taunt as steel wire, claws digging into the parched ground.

With a growl, she bursts through the brush. The buck for a instant frozen, then a tail flashed up. His exposed body turned around double and divots of dirt flew as he bolted. But it was too late. Her claws grabbed into his raw hide, He bleated as both combatants fell to the ground.

A yelp was cut out of her, as his head lashed out. His antler knives slashing and cutting deep into her stomach and organs. Red anger moved her arm, and paws, raking across his neck leaving deep furrow. His blood spurted out, and now she saw red!

Blood lust drove her mouth onto his neck, her teeth bit down hard; meat-hook claws buried into the hide, she isn't giving an inch to the strong prey. A horrified bleat with kicks and thrashes in the dirt, for he tried desperately to rid himself of the demon that laid and held onto his bucking back. But the lucky slash hit the right artery, and he was losing the fight quickly. Eyes rolled in his head, one more kick and eyes brown started to gray over.

As fast as he inevitably lost the violent fight, she was loosing hers as well. The terrible wounds sustained in the brutal battle had penetrated deeply, and her sacrificial blood was inextricably mingling with his. Wrenching herself away, with a paw desperately trying to dam up the side. His metallic tasting blood, inflamed her enemy, but it battled with her mind to get some help. But she was overwhelmingly a miserable outcast. What can she do?

Standing wasn't an option it seem for as soon as she stood uneasily she collapsed on the parched ground after only two steps. Her head spun like a whirlpool. As she laid, eyes peering in the growing light she perceives a figure observing her. But before abysmal darkness inevitably took her she scarcely managed to whisper 'Graybeard - father I'm so sorry, I tried."

At the same time a figure was running out of the forest, wearing a red cape, in which she was tearing into strips. Ignoring the buck, she started working on the Fenrar's wounds trying desperately to staunch the blood loss. "Don't you dare take her!" her anger raged with a furrowed brow.