The sun beat down hard on the dry Savannah soil. There was no shade for quite a while back, but you have to eat sometime, don't you? He treaded lightly over the parched landscape, moving quickly. His dark brown orbs focused ahead of him, on the lookout for any sign of life out here in the open. The grass growing shallow on the plain — golden and dry — crackled under his paws. He kept his dark head down at his chest, trotting swiftly. His face was blank and emotionless, for the time being. It may become that way every now and then, but it never stayed so for very long. Soon enough, some kind of emotion would take control of his entire body, consuming him until he managed to overpower it and shove it back inside him. A vicious cycle that ran his life.

He kept up the pace, his keen sight examining his surroundings. Not that there was anything to be seen, with the exception of a few dead trees, the occasional lizard and an termite mound or two. All of which he ignored. He was questing for a meal. He hadn't eaten a decent meal in days, and the small mammals he consumed were beginning to turn him thin. Although, the only prey to be found out here were reptilian. The usually abundant hunting territory wasn't so today. Of course, this fit perfectly into his life-long streak of bad luck. Until, something caught his attention in the distance.

He raised his head, examining the small black shape that lay far off in the distance. His muzzle lifted into the air, taking in sharp breaths, attempting to draw in some sort of scent. Unfortunately for him, the wind wasn't in his favor. Apparently, this would have to be done the old-fashioned way. He lowered his head down to his chest, and stalked slowly forward toward what he hoped would be his prey. The awkward, black shape in the distance began to come together, triggering an old memory. Gazelle — something he hadn't seen in months. Excitement surged through his body, his tone turning to anticipation. He hoped that he'd be able to bring this one down. It would likely keep his stomach full for quite a while. He relaxed his forelegs, bringing him down into a play-bow position before lowering his hind quarters as well. Lying in the shallow grass, he hoped that the dull-colored grass would blend with the tan coloration of his coat, making him harder to spot until the right moment.

He stalked slowly forward, crawling on his stomach. He lowered his saucer-shaped ears down onto the back of his neck, keeping an eye on his target. By now, he must have been only a few yards away. Although he knew these herbivores were swift on their feet, out pacing even the fastest of Savannah animals — and this did not include him. He would have to play his cards just right if he wanted to eat today. His back pillars collapsed, and he was once again on his stomach. The small animal, grazing on parched grass, seemed oblivious to the danger. His ears pricked up. Now seemed right. The muscles in his legs flexed quickly, immediately lifting him to his paws. He bolted for his prey, knowing full well that it could outrun him without any effort at all. He lunged for its hindquarters, only to receive a swift kick in the head. Although, in an unusual stroke of luck, he got his claws into its thigh. As he hit the dirt, dazed, the animal attempted to flee, but was unable to. He took the chance of another blow, and lunged once again for it — only this time, he went for its neck. His fangs embedded into its flesh, drawing blood immediately. He raked his claws into the dry soil, trying to get a hold on something, while thrashing his head round wildly.

Blood ran down his maw, dripping over his neck. The small herbivore seemed to be losing strength quickly, as its bucking became weaker. He was, too, beginning to feel slightly lightheaded from shaking, but knew he had to keep his hold. He was far too close to give up now. He dug his claws into the dry soil and held out. The gazelle thrashed its head, gasping for air, but to no avail. It dropped onto the dirt — dead. He jolted backward, letting it drop. His mood turned from anticipation and excitement back to calm once again, as he moved in toward his lunch. Although, he knew that he had to eat quickly. The smell of fresh blood could easily attract others, or even animals larger than himself. And, frankly, he didn't know which one was worse.

Ooc;

Oh dear, that was more of a story, wasn't it? Well, I needed to get quite a bit of muse out. Don't expect this kind of effort every time.

A strange scent entered his nares. It was unfamiliar, but beaten somewhere deep in his mind. He looked up from his meal, his blood-stained muzzle widening into a snarl. Aggression surged through his body. This was his own scent, someone of his kind was near. He was immediately on his paws. His large, saucer-shaped ears hit the back of his head. His keen orbs scanned the parched landscape, searching for any sign of a threat. His banner shot upward, each of his senses rising to their peak. He stepped over his kill, staring out over the terrain, waiting. Until suddenly, a loud sound entered his keen ears. He nearly fell over his own paws as he spun round. Another male, like himself, stood a few yards away. He lowered his head, raising his lips further and emitting the most menacing growl he possibly could. Anger fused with fear as he began to lose control of his actions once again. He didn't want to hurt anyone. Given the choice, he would have fled and let the other male have his meal. But, that wasn't an option.

"Go away," he snapped, his pillars beginning to shake. Not so much from fear — he was just trying to keep in control.

His lips raised further as the strange male made his smart remark, his bright pearls flashing in the hot sun. Any hope for this situation was lost. His senses surged and went wild, he blacked out completely. Whatever went on from this point was beyond his control. He lunged forward, thrusting open his maw, going for the closest open target he could spot. He brought his jaws together round the side of his opponent's neck, ripping open the flesh with his sharp canines. The dark red color of blood stained his white pearls. He put all of his weight into his opponent, locking his jaws into their place.

Ooc;

Lol, it's a little difficult for me to picture an African wild dog teaching her pups to share their food.

A sharp pain surged in his ear and shot down into his head, sending a signal of an injury into his brain. Although he was too consumed in anger to give a damn. A gash in the ear wouldn't make much of a difference anyway. And suddenly, he felt himself flung off the ground. What the hell was this guy trying to do? He flexed his sharp claws, raking them in against the hard, dry soil, trying his best to get hold on something. Emitting a deep, scratchy growl, he stiffened the muscles in his forelegs, holding them firmly out in front of his chest. He pressed his jaws closer together. His fangs tore further into his opponent's neck. He was hoping that somehow he might hit something vital, or at least cut off some of his opponent's oxygen.

He felt a sharp tug once again, his forepaws nearly lifting from the ground. He stiffened the muscles in his pillars, trying his best to hold his ground. Occasionally, he was hit in the neck of side of the head, sending a sharp surge of pain through his body. The sensation of an injury was familiar, but he felt close to nothing in a fog of anger. He drove his claws into the dry, rough soil, putting all of his weight into his opponent. By this time, he felt quite lightheaded from the repeated blows. If he didn't do something soon, he would likely pass out again. He dreaded waking up, out of his fog, likely in a world of pain. He pushed his head upward and in, attempting to pin his opponent down.

Ooc;

He doesn't have to go down if you don't want him to, Zero'll just pass out here in a minute anyway.

He felt the pain, and the warm liquid running down the side of his neck. The shock went straight to his brain. He emitted a sharp, quick squeal, pulling his fangs from his opponent's wounds. He thrashed his head back and forth once, and again. His pillars buckled, eyes tightly closed, and dropped into the hard, dry soil, throwing up a cloud of dust. He slipped slowly into unconsciousness, his ribs bouncing up and down with each faint breath he took.

Ooc;

I'll have him wake up in the next post.