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Porcupine Ridge evening - Printable Version

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evening - Tonravik - July 24, 2013

As the sun was setting, Tonravik rose from the rocky outcrop she had remained in during the days. They were hot, hotter than she was used to. Dusk came, and so too did Tonravik, emerging from her hovel in the ground and in time, arriving toward a location that looked... precarious. Tonravik was a woman who embraced challenges, and as she scented goat, she took to this one swiftly. Tonravik was used to hunting exceptionally large game, but had become accustomed to spooking the creatures that lingered upon ridges until they fell to their certain death. It was hit or miss, but she was confident this time around; she was not weak with hunger, and even if she did not spook one, she was sure she could scrounge something up.

The climb was more difficult than she had anticipated. Regardless, Tonravik was a woman who had dealt with far dangerous mountain faces littered in ice seen and unseen. The slightest of noises could set snow in motion. There was not that risk here, and yet she still moved as though there were; it was a force of habit, and one Tonravik would never relinquish. In the end, her carefulness was rewarded. In the distance, they were spotted. There was plenty more to climb until a lovely sight would ever reward her, but the prey she saw would be reward enough should she be able to hunt it successfully.



RE: evening - Teklar - July 30, 2013

Gaining familiarity with the lands would take time and energy. Time was something he would have in ample supply, but his energy would continue to fade quickly if he did not replenish himself with food. Teklar craved meat, and hoards of it. He longed to fill his stomach on the flesh of another being. He longed to feel the hot blood of his victim dripping from his lips. Teklar longed to eat.

He had traveled to the northwest, heading toward the mountains and traversing up the treacherous inclines. The pathway was dangerous and tiring, but he remained steady on his course. The scent of game burned in his nostrils and he stalked after them with renewed strength. His muscles strained to keep him moving on the difficult path, every inhaled breath rewarded with the rich scent of his prey. But there was something else on the night atmosphere as well, the scent of another predator.

Moving with caution, the lone white male kept a wary eye searching for the female of his species.