THE TANKLIKE SON OF IFRIT & EVERLYSE
[ male - six years - 31 inches, 130 pounds - no imprint - no mate - asteraia ]
He had been patrolling when he had crossed a distressing scent.
Cougar.
He is not the usual type of wolf one might think would be formidable for something so long and lanky and swift. He is not fast and has so little endurance. He is white as the day is bright with spots of sunshine gold to only enhance how very stark he is in any amount of light. He is not stealthy, therefore, either. He has none of the talents of this beast save one and that one is the most odd sort of talent of his stocky, thick, shorter build. All the muscles of his brother with a fraction of the height.
He bellows a trumpet of a howl, deep from his chest, a blast of sound that is of immediate danger and would tell anyone who listened where he was at the border if they had such talent as to decipher direction of sound. It says that he has found an intruder, one of the beasts of the wilds, and it is here. Clear and present danger. Monster. Kill it.
And then those muscular legs send him forward, hardly far considering that it’s prey it followed had not gone terribly deep into the packland. The cat’s path through the long grass allows him sight after scent had led him and sound was failing him. "LION!" he bellows again, this time without a howl and laced instead with snarling growls that rumble deep and guttural.
And then he leaps as the cat does, his thick muscles matching the cats agility with power so that he is left as the cat’s only available target if it kept on it’s course and far better a target with his endurance burning towards low already.
If he were to be the choice the cat makes, then he would meet the beast head to head, letting his fate-given undeniable power to root him in his place and therefore create and immediate close-combat position that the feline might not have had time to reasonably anticipate. The cat’s hundred extra pounds would make him sink into his rooted position before lunging his head forward to grasp a tight hold on the meat of whatever body part was nearest.
If he were not the choice, and the cat evaded to dodge around him, he would have snaked his head out with unusual agility despite his lack of over-ground speed and would have grasped any part of the cat that tried to veer past him. Depending on the placement of the bite, he would then lock his legs and root the cat by his own momentum of pivoting towards the cat and his weight countering the cats own as best he could.
|
|
