Hibernation Point Disc Thirteen

Mature Content Warning

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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: Descriptions of Murderous Intent, Violence

The little bird had flown from Godsmouth's makeshift camp. As Herod informed him, it frequented the mountain ranges. This day was no different. Fierce winds ravaged the the stone spire. The cold mountain air swirled and raced down the stone paths with a viscous bite. Nature's cruelty was all too familiar, and Ransem navigated it well.

The little bird's trail climbed and climbed. He needn't put his nose to the ground, for it sang high above. A wailing melody snatched by the wind to cascade down to the slopes below. Ransem's gait was slow and deliberate. Torn ears cupped behind him. The mountain reeked of bear. It would be terribly early for one of the large predators to begin bedding down for winter, but the man could not risk instigating a bear's wrath during this endeavor.

No man wanted his hunt stolen.

He could see the grieving woman ahead, fractured and coming undone at the seams with each passing scream. Overburdened with each loss and that rage that came as a consequence. Ransem was no stranger to wrath. He had long accepted it as part of his being. It was a powerful thing; he knew well enough what one could forge from unrelenting anger.

It was why he held no pity for her.

Elveera Snowbird was no less an animal than the deer that fed him the night prior. Wolves held themselves above such thoughts, but it was the rotten truth none wished to swallow. The will of the strong overpowered the weak, and those that hesitated are left behind. Strength was an abstract concept in many regarding. Coming in forms such as mind, body, will, and numbers. Each form as fallible as it is powerful. The wrong application of strength results in loss.

Every animal has a weakness. If she could not find the resolve to channel her anger then she was weak. Ransem had mastered his long ago.

It is a hunter's gaze that bore into the back of her skull. Calculative, hungry. The hunter's body lowered in a stalk, head leveling with his chest. Tattered ears tilting forward. The wind drowned by the sound of his own heartbeat. An long inhale drawn slowly, preparing for the struggle. Breath caged within his chest, the hunter assessed the distance.

A heartbeat passed.

Then two.

Surging forward with jaws wide, Ransem lunged for the Snowbird's neck. He held every intention of crushing the song from her throat should his strike land.