Tori had slowly begun to move towards the valley, hoping her hunting prospects (in all regards) would prove to be more fruitful than they had been in the Glacier. She had known it a poor place to hunt due to the ice and the cold, but the valley provided her with hope that it would be easier to work with. And she was not disappointed. She could smell the herds, and the direction that they moved through.
Her eyes focused intently… it would be too big for her to take down alone, but an injured one on the outskirts proved promising if she could lure another into helping her. The herd was likely to abandon it, especially at the thought of there being more than simply her.
She was going to have to think about it.
For now, her eyes remained focused on the distance, the scent lingering over the space between.
Her eyes focused intently… it would be too big for her to take down alone, but an injured one on the outskirts proved promising if she could lure another into helping her. The herd was likely to abandon it, especially at the thought of there being more than simply her.
She was going to have to think about it.
For now, her eyes remained focused on the distance, the scent lingering over the space between.
days were getting warmer, but still her own farts heated her up better than the sun could. gun managed day-to-day by being lazy, curled up and napping in some forest hovel - a hollowed-out tree or a bit-too-tight den.
when not knocked unconscious, she was on the move. the mastiff wasn't a hunter-- she had to survive through chewing on old bones and thieving. her belly usually woke her, and gun went walking until she either got too tired, or found something to eat.
no luck the previous day. exhausted and tetchy, gun wound herself tight within a fox burrow, small enough that all four of her paws stuck out while her bulk was squashed inside. the concept of frostbite eluded her mental faculties.
as always, her sleep was characterized by obnoxious, thunderous snoring.
when not knocked unconscious, she was on the move. the mastiff wasn't a hunter-- she had to survive through chewing on old bones and thieving. her belly usually woke her, and gun went walking until she either got too tired, or found something to eat.
no luck the previous day. exhausted and tetchy, gun wound herself tight within a fox burrow, small enough that all four of her paws stuck out while her bulk was squashed inside. the concept of frostbite eluded her mental faculties.
as always, her sleep was characterized by obnoxious, thunderous snoring.
February 13, 2024, 09:39 PM
She had moved away from the glacier as fast as possible despite holding her ground against the feline. She had no desire to claim used territory, though she had little doubt that the conquest over such a foe would be deliciously wonderful all the same. But what to do with the spoils? It was not a realistic place to linger, though it would demand only the most battle-hardened warriors to endure the weather.
It was her wander to the Valley that had brought her upon more of the undesirable: a mutt with a messed up face. Her eyes narrowed as the ivory woman crept forward, a low growl emitting from her throat. “Who the fuck are you?” She would question, her posture tall despite her smaller stature.
It was her wander to the Valley that had brought her upon more of the undesirable: a mutt with a messed up face. Her eyes narrowed as the ivory woman crept forward, a low growl emitting from her throat. “Who the fuck are you?” She would question, her posture tall despite her smaller stature.
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