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07-09-2012, 10:07 PM
Try as he might, little defective colt is no hero. As the owl flies off stunned, the jungle cat creeps behind and its claws find purchase on the pup that he so longs to protect and harbor. Instantly there is a shriek of pain, and he spins to face the silent killer, his nerves on fire and his instincts roiling with a chance to prove what danger lies within him. He feels a hatred for the jungle cat that he cannot understand, despite its resemblance to his mother as he first remembers seeing her. Perhaps, the voices whisper, that is why the aversion is so strong at all. But in this desperate moment he refuses to lose faith in the strongest pillar of his weakened faith that is his mother. With a leap he attacks the jungle cat fiercely, not caring what the cost will be to his own body, wanting only to save the pup. She struggles weakly, stuck beneath the root, her back leg bent and the flesh covering it torn by the jungle cat's first hit. He smells the blood, strong as when he first bathed in it, and remembers the taste. The lust propels him forward and positions his hooves down, aimed to strike the great cat's skull. Determination and loyalty to a beast not yet his companion dissolves all fear, even when blue eyes see the reflection of white teeth and hear the low rumble of the cat's growling hiss. He has not known fear now, or ever before in his life- he'll be a good warrior to never know it, but just as quickly the gap in his knowledge could make him a dead one. |
