Post by rayunga on Dec 18, 2007 16:23:18 GMT -5
Vibrations came from small, dainty hooves, unconcerned of the danger that lurked there. With a sly smile, Rayunga slid forward through the grass towards the adult Thompson's gazelle that nibbled at the grass. It was oblivious to all warnings, it seemed, but 'tis not the truth. At the slight movement, very slight one might add, in the bush, it stomped onyx nadirs in complainative worrying as it bleated aloud, warning the others about this mystery hiding in the tall grass. Little, in it's tiny brain, did it know the master behind it all, with 470 lbs. of pure torque and muscle. After staring at the same spot the movement came from, the gazelle, now wary, began to graze by eyeball the target. However, it didn't know until the golden lioness rose out of the grass, that it was actually behind her, not diagonal to her. With a call of distress, the gazelle took off in flight, a large honey-hued lioness after her.
Liquid brown eyes sparkled with perpetual fire and spirit as she cued down her quarry, quickly, but steadily closing the gap. When only a few feet apart, muscles began to sordidly scream in protest, but prey and fresh meat was just out of reach. She couldn't lose that, could she? She thought not! Reaching her max speed, the gazelle zigzagging as if there was no tomorrow. Then, using a last stunt, her audits swiveled to attention and she bunched up toned sinews and launched onto her prey's back.
It seemed her weight alone brought it down, because a crunch could be heard as both its back legs broke under the stress of added weight. In a heart-wrenching bleat, she cried in agony as she knew it would be her last. Horns were to be avoided, not to be gored by a gazelle is a profit in the great game of hunting. So, the lioness cleared way she did and held tight to the gazelle's windpipe, crushing it with perfect ease. Alas, the mammal quite moving and she could finally begin her meal. Still, she had one duty, but her muscles were already being strained, but with a few bites in, her energy flooded back.
A loud roar suspended and reverbrated against the very air it seemed, as it could've been heard for miles. Then, after letting the rest of the pride a meal had been caught, she continued to eat, for her delectable prize was not to be hers for long.
Liquid brown eyes sparkled with perpetual fire and spirit as she cued down her quarry, quickly, but steadily closing the gap. When only a few feet apart, muscles began to sordidly scream in protest, but prey and fresh meat was just out of reach. She couldn't lose that, could she? She thought not! Reaching her max speed, the gazelle zigzagging as if there was no tomorrow. Then, using a last stunt, her audits swiveled to attention and she bunched up toned sinews and launched onto her prey's back.
It seemed her weight alone brought it down, because a crunch could be heard as both its back legs broke under the stress of added weight. In a heart-wrenching bleat, she cried in agony as she knew it would be her last. Horns were to be avoided, not to be gored by a gazelle is a profit in the great game of hunting. So, the lioness cleared way she did and held tight to the gazelle's windpipe, crushing it with perfect ease. Alas, the mammal quite moving and she could finally begin her meal. Still, she had one duty, but her muscles were already being strained, but with a few bites in, her energy flooded back.
A loud roar suspended and reverbrated against the very air it seemed, as it could've been heard for miles. Then, after letting the rest of the pride a meal had been caught, she continued to eat, for her delectable prize was not to be hers for long.
