Masavoa and the Buffalo

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Masavoa and the Buffalo

Post  Naasir on Thu Aug 04, 2011 7:20 pm

Masavoa stalked through the tall grass. He kept his body in perfect form, a sheer killing machine. His paws were more silent than moonlight as he made his way toward his prey, the water buffalo. The massive animal matched him in size and strength, but this didn't daunt the tallion. What did make the cat nervous was hunting alone. Sure, he was successful in eight out of ten of his hunts, but since his exile he had never gone after a buffalo by himself. He had witnessed their stubbornness and resilience when attacked first hand, and back in the village it had taken him plus 3 or 4 warriors to subdue the creatures. But Masavoa had been tracking this herd for days, and he was very hungry.

He was within striking distance now, and the feline prepared to leap. He launched his muscular figure through the air, landing squarely on the ungulate's back. The second his claws sunk into flesh, the buffalo began to buck. Masavoa clung for dear life, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh at the base of the prey's skull. But the animal was nowhere near giving up. It rolled over unexpectedly, knocking the wind out of the tallion and making him lose his grip on the buffalo's back. He shook his head, trying to clear it from the impact. He quickly tried to jump out of the way, but a cloven hoof struck him in the flank. He growled in pain, slashing with his claws blindly. Masavoa felt claw connect with hide as he scratched the buffalo's face. It snorted in fury, backing up. The tallion watched as it lowered it's head, preparing to charge. Knowing from experience that this was a perfect opportunity to gore the animal with his horns, Massavoa stood his ground. Then, as the snorting hunk of muscle barreled toward him, he nimbly dodged out of the way, neatly goring the buffalo in the chest.

What he didn't expect was for the buffalo to whip around and come back at him. It's horned head struck his shoulder, knocking him back. He would have laughed at the irony of being gored by his prey, but at the moment was a little more concerned with escaping alive. He leapt to his feet, wounded, and ran. For a while he could hear the creature's huffing breath on his tail for some time, the slowly it faded away. The tallion stopped to catch his breath, looking to assess his surroundings.

Strangely enough, the buffalo had chased him right back to his den he had made the previous night. His scent was heavy in the air, for he didn't want any wandering rogue to catch him off guard in the night. Now recovered from his flight, Masavoa looked over the places where he had been injured. He smiled as he found nothing but fading scratches. But his pleasure soon faded as his stomach growled in protest. The tallion roared in frustration, it's sonic boom causing ripples in the air. Birds flew screeching to the skies, startled by the noise. The massive feline flopped under the shade of a nearby tree, his tan pelt merging with the grass, nearly disappearing.

If I had a hunting partner, now that would have fixed that stupid buffalo then and there, he thought to himself. But he knew no other creature would be able to keep up with him in a hunt, he was too big and too strong. With this depressing thought glooming up his thoughts, he let his mind wander, willing himself to fall asleep. Within minutes he was snoring loudly in the blistering noon heat of the day.
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Re: Masavoa and the Buffalo

Post  twist-of-fate-16 on Tue Oct 11, 2011 8:04 pm

(( Well hey there (: ))

The flies are already beginning to collect on her skin.

Her side barely moves with her shallow breaths, and her half-closed eyes focus and then unfocus as she tries again to remain strong. She has not eaten for eight days, and she is beginning to lose hope of ever eating again. There are many animals in the savannah, herds of wild antelope, buffalo, and zebra. But she has never learned to hunt for herself, and as her strength fails she knows she will not be able to outrun nor overpower any creature.

She flicks her tail halfheartedly, and the cloud of flies disperses for one second, and then settles back down to suck her blood. She lays her head down in the dirt, and has all but given up hope when she hears it.

The carrion birds who have made their perch in the trees above her take to the skies, and a frightened herd of antelope raise up a cloud of dust as they thunder down the hill and out of her sight. She raises up her head, and a sudden thought strikes her. She will be easy prey here, weak and unable to move, and her glowing red stripes will surely attract attention. She knows she must move, and so she struggles to her feet. Her hooves lose purchase in the packed earth, and she falls back down again with a primal moan.

She will surely die here.
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Re: Masavoa and the Buffalo

Post  Naasir on Tue Oct 11, 2011 8:47 pm

(hey hey! Smile)

Masavoa woke with a startled grunt to the screeching of vultures. They were circling a spot not to far from his den, but they were causing quite a racket. He shook his thick neck fur, sending specks of dirt and grass flying into the air. The tallion grimaced, vigorously grooming himself. He hated being filthy. Not from an want to be pristine and clean, but being covered in dirt and debris caught scent easier, and he didn't like being caught before he was ready.

As he finished licking a few rough spots in his coat, he stretched his back in one long motion, kneading the ground with his claws. Now fully awake, he studied the pattern of the soaring buzzards, then chuffed in pleasure. Something had died, or was about to, which meant a free and easy meal for the beast. Energized by the promise of quelling the storm in his gut, he started at an easy lope toward the birds.

A small hill overlooked the kill, but grass covered the identity of the animal. Roaring in irritation at the scavengers, he made his way down the smooth slope, and parted the grass, ready to dig in to a welcome meal.

What greeted him made him narrow his eyes, and let out a small growl of surprise. The creature lying in the grass was not zebra, gazelle, or even a wildebeast.

It was one of his own.

Mastering himself, he padded to the tallion's head, he lifted her chin to get a better view of her face. She was obviously female, by the state of her horns. That much he remembered from his old life. Flashes of strange cats and kindly words surfaced in his memory, bringing tears to sting his eyes. Masavoa roughly shook them away, then looked around to see if any unwelcome visitors had decided to investigate. The male tallion was hardly scared of hyenas, but experience had taught him caution. When he could find no threat, he hauled the female's deteriorating body onto his back, then carried her back to his den. Lying her in the shade, he settled down next to himself, a slew of thoughts invading his head. Who was she? Was she the only other of his kind? Did she know his family? Lying his head on his paws, hooves stretched out behind him, Masavoa tilted his head to look at her again. She had pretty colors, he supposed, but it was hard to tell with how beat up her pelt was. He gazed a while longer, then murmered softly,

"Today is not your day, kin. Rest and recover, death's head dare not rear and look me in eye before it takes you. You're safe."
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Re: Masavoa and the Buffalo

Post  twist-of-fate-16 on Tue Oct 11, 2011 9:22 pm

Somewhere in the back of her starved and sickened brain, a voice, soft yet masculine, soothes her fevered thoughts. She smiles through the haze, as her rotting imagination begins to piece together a face to go with the voice. A handsome male tallion, dark gold, stripes like the ocean sky. He smiles down at her, and keeps death from the door. She sinks again into oblivion, and does not wake again until morning.

***

Her eyes are heavy as she opens them for what seems like the first time in her life, and she blinks against the sunlight streaming into the den. Slowly she stretches her paws out in front of her, and as she watches her cracked and bleeding paw pads, ravished from her ceaseless flight from captivity, begin to heal over. She stares at them in wonder; it has been so long since she has had the energy to heal herself.

Her spirits renewed, she pushes herself to her feet, and notes with disgust that her pelt has become unrecognizable; even her stripes are covered in a layer of dirt and blood that diminishes their ethereal glow. She sets about cleaning herself, her rough tongue cleansing the grime from her fur until she glows again.

A sound from the back of the den makes her whip back her head, and she barely manages to stifle a gasp. A tallion lies there, lost in a dream. She recognizes him; it was his voice that she heard last night when she was so close to slipping away; it was he who gave her the strength to keep fighting. His eyes rove restlessly beneath his closed eyelids, and his paws bat out at some unseen attacker. She watches him in wonderment. He is the first of her kind she has ever seen outside of captivity, and she doesn't know whether to run from him or weep for joy.
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Re: Masavoa and the Buffalo

Post  Naasir on Tue Oct 11, 2011 11:50 pm

Masavoa's paws thundered against the savana grass. His hooves and paws left deep gouges in the earth, his movements eratic with fear. Something dark was coming for him, like a storm cloud that eclipsed his whole world. He couldn't run fast enough, and the world around him almost blacked to nothing. Then, a light shone ahead. Brilliant and warm, it silhoutted 3 figures. One was bigger than he was, horns reaching to the sky. The second was smaller, and was close enough to the first that the two almost melded together seamlessly. The third was much smaller, cub sized, and waddled toward him on unstable legs. But the light from behind shrouded their features, and he couldn't make them out...

The tallion's body went still as he woke. He limbs ceased flailing, and his breathing slowed as he recognized the safety of his den. Calm worked its way back into his system, and he regained his composure, doning a mask of strenght, and emotionlessness. He stood slowly, stretching his aching body. His sleep had done little more than make him even more weary, and as such his mood had not improved.

But out of the side of his vision a form moved, and the mask rearanged into one of speculative indifference. He turned his gaze to his catch, eyeing the female tallion quietly. Unmoving, she looked caught mid-decision, niether fighting nor fleeing. Her injuries had healed themselves, and she was looking less hagard by the second. Masavoa could now see that she was indeed rather pretty, from his view at least. Her coat was niether astonishingly beautiful nor mundane, and her stripes had taken on a crimson glow in the dark of the den. He glanced briefly at his own stripes, violent torqouis raging beside a steely blue, and nodded to himself.

"What's your name?" he inquired, his voice low. He knew how to make prey feel relaxed and safe when he was near, and wondered if the same technique would prove itself. Before she answered, he continued. "My name is Masavoa. I saved your life, and I don't want to hurt you. Just... don't run, please? The please was tacked on at the last minute, a flash of curteousy he hoped made a better impression.
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Re: Masavoa and the Buffalo

Post  twist-of-fate-16 on Wed Oct 12, 2011 12:54 am

Masavoa. His name fits him, she observes, and decides then not to run.

She sinks down into a half-crouch, her hind hooves making a sitting stance awkward, and stares up at his massive face. Something in his voice makes her want to trust him, and she gives over to her instincts. If he had wanted to hurt her, he easily could have, but now she was in his debt.

She opens her mouth to speak, and chokes on the words. Her throat is dry as desert sand; the roof of her mouth cracked and parched. She has been far too long without water.

She swallows hard and forces the words out. The sound of her own voice is strange in her ears. "My name is Nadhiri," she manages, and winces. "Thank you for saving me, Masavoa." She inclines her head in respect. "I am in debt to you." She hesitates, then lifts up her head to stare into his endless blue eyes. "But please, tell me...where did you come from? I have never known another like myself, save my family, but they..." she trails off as the flood of memories rushes in, filling her mind with blood and rage. She shuts her eyes against the images and interrupts herself, the words tumbling out in a rush. "Please, may I stay with you? Just for a little while, until I can care for myself?" She meets his eyes, and hopes for an answer.
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