a thousand times I tempted fate;
Despite the fact he had been semi-sheltered by Orra, he had hunted with the males, learning very quickly that if he had not caught on he would have become the prey. Feeding was a frenzy, hungry mouths and empty bellies as each fought one another for a piece of meat. Madness, when blood came. After Orra's death and his fall into the darkness he had ranked one of the first to eat, thus giving him the strength to maintain his hold. Kill or be killed, it was survival of the fittest. And when the weak fell the strong descended like a blanket of tooth and claw, wasting nothing in a world where cruelty prevailed. It was why he had essentially buried Orra, to save her from the fate; despite her apparent death. back then if he were given this exact moment, instead of teaching he would have taken. Taken what little she had to give so that he could live, but to see him now it is almost ironic.
Her words cause his ears to swivel and tune into her words, while eyes watch the coon. Too small. Timidly he glances, unsure how she will feel as his eyes trail along her thin figure. For even is she were well fed, she still is but a wisp of a thing. His lips seem to twitch as a smile tries yet again to show but fails as words rumble from his lips. "My sister is not much bigger than you and she is a force to reckon with..." His words are filled with admiration. For everlyse was indeed rather small she still packed a hell of a punch. "If you want to be one, you will. A lovely warrior.." He seems to whisper the last. If he knew one thing of females it was the way they fought and hunted, their delicate bodies much more inclined with evasive maneuvers. Crafted with a deadly beauty if they so chose it. He should know, he had fought many in his time. Their skills just as prominent as the males that have scarred his body.
He can almost feel the tension seeping off her, as if she is unsure of what he has given if her if she chooses to take it. Orange eyes watch the way she reacts, picking up the hesitation. Until her hunger can take no more, as she moves with fierce intent. Eyes are captivated as she grabs the neck of the coon and with one good shake there is silence, beautiful silence. As eyes seem to flicker like flames at the sight but quickly do they die at the words she gives. Sadness. Guilt. She felt guilt for the coon and his mind accepts this now. "You can feel pity for him.." He whispers, pausing before adding. "But would you rather feel guilt at his death or.. or.. feel the ache of an empty stomach." He does not want his words to be harsh, so they are low and almost gentle. As if telling her it was one or the other. Death is death, we all die. She moves, and a look of curiosity burns in his eyes.
"Why do crawl away?.. You have ended his life he is yours to have little warrior." He follows this with a wave of his tail, as if to reassure her, despite the fact he had wounded him she had given the ending blow. By nature he is her's unless challenged, but it is too early to teach that for he see's the way she resists even now. "Say it, tell me he is yours.." He coaxes with a almost harder tone as if trying to build up her confidence, trying to make her see this was her moment. "Tell everyone of the kill you have made.." His words trail off as his head leans back and a triumphant howl erupts from his bloodied lips as he sings of her reward. Hoping her instincts will give in. Ears lay upon his skull but long to hear the song she will give if she even does. It was a tradition back home, bathed in blood the victor would sing of his kill and tell a story with his song, that he was the one who ended a life. That he was strong and mighty. If she would join in and feel the thrill of the notes leaving her lips. Teaching her the only way he knows how, by showing her.
Jericho. six - no mate - no imprint - nowhere |