Post by kasidoa on Apr 22, 2013 20:52:39 GMT -5
(October 3rd, open to Kasidoa and Tafari.)
The grasslands were peaceful. Long stalks of yellow wheat swayed gently in the hot African fall breeze. The merciless sun beamed down on the brown pelt of a gazelle, female, grazing in the plentiful fields. She was not alone. Hidden treacherously in the golden waves of fauna crouched another creature, pelt as sand colored as the landscape that hid him. The only discernible differences were the spots botching the sun-colored coat and the burning red gaze, sparked with a feverish lust for the prey reflected in them. Normally the hunt was easier with his sisters...but then again, who needed 'easy'? Kasidoa thrived on thrills. And if he could eat the measure of his thrill once he'd experienced it, all the better. Well-worked muscles, toned for the specific purpose of running powerfully, rolled experimentally under the scruffy coat.
The bad-boy cheetah half-parted his circular feline jaws, letting a twitch of excitement flick the end of his long, striped tail as he scented the warm gusts of air. They were in his favor, blowing towards him. The tantalizing smell of what was only living meat to Kasidoa reached him in all satisfaction of his expectations. Food with legs. Legs that were not nearly quick enough to escape, but perhaps enough to challenge. The Outlands were barren and harsh, and he liked them that way. But there weren't enough prey animals to chase, to exercise with, to mow down. Perfection was exactly what the male cheetah felt like as he shifted almost imperceptibly. Watching the prey was nearly as good as chasing it, if only for the savoring of anticipation that occurred in the wait before the spring. That said, now was as good a time as any; he knew it was the right moment for the attack when he became suddenly discontent. When crouching there, death on spotted legs, so close and yet so far, was no longer enough entertainment.
Soundlessly, like an arrow fired from a bow, the speckled hunter launched, long legs pumping in a blur, body stretching and contracting in a graceful yet nearly terrifying—if you happened to be a gazelle—fluidity of motion. He was death on the fastest legs in Africa. He was this prey animal's worst inescapable nightmare. He was like lightning striking along the earth's surface, bound to hit it's target. Kasidoa gained momentum, extending his clawed reach farther to cover more ground as his lunch became aware of his approach and fled. Gazelle's could not match cheetahs at their top speed, but it took the smallest of the big cats a while to reach their too speed, and they ran out of energy quickly. If Kasidoa didn't close the gap soon, he'd burn up all of his energy and the more durable prey animal would escape.
Luckily, the spotted feline had a plan. Not far from the area he'd been stalking the gazelle in was a dip in the soil. It was barely visible in the endless rolling fields, but knowing the area, the malicious young predator was sure that if he could drive the unsuspecting gazelle towards it, it may loose footing, and he'd be on it like a buzzard on rotting flesh. But he'd have to keep it on course; the ditch was not long, and the slightest deviation could make the panicked creature change direction and keep it's ballet-like pace.
Nearly there, long ivories were exposed in a ruthless, sadistic grin as the red-hot eyes widened in eager anticipation. The gazelle hadn't even wavered. This would be easy after all. Good thing he was hungry enough to remain satisfied with this little test. He could nearly taste the succulent meat that was carrying itself desperately away from him, feel the animal between his teeth, see it stumble and seal it's fate...
And suddenly, it was ruined. The gazelle let out an alarmed bleat and twisted for some reason, going in an utterly different direction. Momentum too hard pressing, Kasidoa brought his own body to an abrupt, furious halt. He energy was spent; there was no way he could catch up with the gazelle now. Why had it changed direction? Only another predator could frighten it into a random, on-a-dime turn like that.
The grasslands were peaceful. Long stalks of yellow wheat swayed gently in the hot African fall breeze. The merciless sun beamed down on the brown pelt of a gazelle, female, grazing in the plentiful fields. She was not alone. Hidden treacherously in the golden waves of fauna crouched another creature, pelt as sand colored as the landscape that hid him. The only discernible differences were the spots botching the sun-colored coat and the burning red gaze, sparked with a feverish lust for the prey reflected in them. Normally the hunt was easier with his sisters...but then again, who needed 'easy'? Kasidoa thrived on thrills. And if he could eat the measure of his thrill once he'd experienced it, all the better. Well-worked muscles, toned for the specific purpose of running powerfully, rolled experimentally under the scruffy coat.
The bad-boy cheetah half-parted his circular feline jaws, letting a twitch of excitement flick the end of his long, striped tail as he scented the warm gusts of air. They were in his favor, blowing towards him. The tantalizing smell of what was only living meat to Kasidoa reached him in all satisfaction of his expectations. Food with legs. Legs that were not nearly quick enough to escape, but perhaps enough to challenge. The Outlands were barren and harsh, and he liked them that way. But there weren't enough prey animals to chase, to exercise with, to mow down. Perfection was exactly what the male cheetah felt like as he shifted almost imperceptibly. Watching the prey was nearly as good as chasing it, if only for the savoring of anticipation that occurred in the wait before the spring. That said, now was as good a time as any; he knew it was the right moment for the attack when he became suddenly discontent. When crouching there, death on spotted legs, so close and yet so far, was no longer enough entertainment.
Soundlessly, like an arrow fired from a bow, the speckled hunter launched, long legs pumping in a blur, body stretching and contracting in a graceful yet nearly terrifying—if you happened to be a gazelle—fluidity of motion. He was death on the fastest legs in Africa. He was this prey animal's worst inescapable nightmare. He was like lightning striking along the earth's surface, bound to hit it's target. Kasidoa gained momentum, extending his clawed reach farther to cover more ground as his lunch became aware of his approach and fled. Gazelle's could not match cheetahs at their top speed, but it took the smallest of the big cats a while to reach their too speed, and they ran out of energy quickly. If Kasidoa didn't close the gap soon, he'd burn up all of his energy and the more durable prey animal would escape.
Luckily, the spotted feline had a plan. Not far from the area he'd been stalking the gazelle in was a dip in the soil. It was barely visible in the endless rolling fields, but knowing the area, the malicious young predator was sure that if he could drive the unsuspecting gazelle towards it, it may loose footing, and he'd be on it like a buzzard on rotting flesh. But he'd have to keep it on course; the ditch was not long, and the slightest deviation could make the panicked creature change direction and keep it's ballet-like pace.
Nearly there, long ivories were exposed in a ruthless, sadistic grin as the red-hot eyes widened in eager anticipation. The gazelle hadn't even wavered. This would be easy after all. Good thing he was hungry enough to remain satisfied with this little test. He could nearly taste the succulent meat that was carrying itself desperately away from him, feel the animal between his teeth, see it stumble and seal it's fate...
And suddenly, it was ruined. The gazelle let out an alarmed bleat and twisted for some reason, going in an utterly different direction. Momentum too hard pressing, Kasidoa brought his own body to an abrupt, furious halt. He energy was spent; there was no way he could catch up with the gazelle now. Why had it changed direction? Only another predator could frighten it into a random, on-a-dime turn like that.
