September 21, 2020, 10:59 PM
That’s the life of a Huntress; it's not a pretty one, it was one of blood and flesh. She was raised not to sugar coat it, but to welcome it, enjoy it even. But she rarely hunts Fawns. Yes, they're relatively easy meals—especially if you get them young with inexperienced mothers—but Fawns is the future of a Herd, killing them puts the Herd’s future at risk.
So when she hunts, she hunts smart.
Hearing the Stag’s reply to her probing question, Aliana laughs once more, ❝You could ask me the same question about me and meat❟ Stag and the answer would be all the same.❞ The faintest memory flickers in the back of her head, one she couldn’t recall quite right. She remembered...eating grass once— she must have been a whelp then; explorative, always curious, constantly putting her mouth on anything she could. And on that day she realized one thing...grass tasted awful.
Then the Stag pronounced he was a Prince and her brows rose, ❝A Prince？Ah❟ didn❜t know I was in the presence of royalty. Guess I should have practice my curtsey❟ hm？ ❞ There was a slight hint of sarcasm in her voice. She wasn’t about to bow to a creature she typically considered to be food. The same went for any random pack wolf, leader, or not. Her loyalty and respect were traditionally reserved for the pack she decides to align herself with. But she suspects that the Stag cares not that she had little respect for his title, all that she respected were those horns not being pointed in her direction.
She went quiet for a moment, ❝Soooo...❞ She trailed off slightly, thinking, ❝You got any questions for me Stag？Seems only fair with the questions I've been asking you, or are you merely going to stand over there❟ staring at me with a straight yet judging face？❞
So when she hunts, she hunts smart.
Hearing the Stag’s reply to her probing question, Aliana laughs once more, ❝You could ask me the same question about me and meat❟ Stag and the answer would be all the same.❞ The faintest memory flickers in the back of her head, one she couldn’t recall quite right. She remembered...eating grass once— she must have been a whelp then; explorative, always curious, constantly putting her mouth on anything she could. And on that day she realized one thing...grass tasted awful.
Then the Stag pronounced he was a Prince and her brows rose, ❝A Prince？Ah❟ didn❜t know I was in the presence of royalty. Guess I should have practice my curtsey❟ hm？ ❞ There was a slight hint of sarcasm in her voice. She wasn’t about to bow to a creature she typically considered to be food. The same went for any random pack wolf, leader, or not. Her loyalty and respect were traditionally reserved for the pack she decides to align herself with. But she suspects that the Stag cares not that she had little respect for his title, all that she respected were those horns not being pointed in her direction.
She went quiet for a moment, ❝Soooo...❞ She trailed off slightly, thinking, ❝You got any questions for me Stag？Seems only fair with the questions I've been asking you, or are you merely going to stand over there❟ staring at me with a straight yet judging face？❞
This is the law of the Jungle, as old and as true as the sky, And the wolf that shall keep it may prosper, but the wolf that shall break it must die.
As the creeper that girdles the tree trunk, the law runneth forward and back; For the strength of the pack is the wolf, and the strength of the wolf is the pack.
As the creeper that girdles the tree trunk, the law runneth forward and back; For the strength of the pack is the wolf, and the strength of the wolf is the pack.
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RE: gawad - by Aliana - September 21, 2020, 10:59 PM