30th Day of Winter, 518 AV, 21st Bell, Outside Ravok’s Northern Outpost
Leaf litter crunched softly beneath her paws as Zavya paced the length of the forest, golden gaze piercing through the dusky twilight and narrowing in on her target. There she was—a fat, juicy doe with liquid eyes and a proud white tail. The tigress could feel herself salivating as she beheld the magnificent creature, her stomach rumbling softly. Deer that size could feed us for at least the next few days, she thought, a barbed tongue sweeping over her lips as she crept lower to the ground. As long as I don’t petch it up…
The tigress was careful to remain downwind of her prey, low among the brush as she focused in with a single-minded determination. Careful now, don’t get too close. Slowly, slowly… One step closer… another step… there she is, almost there…
SNAP!
A fallen branch snapped under Zavya’s paw, the Kelvic growling in bitter frustration. The doe’s head jerked up in fear, throwing her gaze back and forth as she sought the noise. Zavya crouched lower, but it was too late; she’d already been spotted. The deer was nothing more than a blur when it bolted, heading off in any direction but the one where the predator waited.
Gods damn it all! she thought with a snarl, leaping into action and chasing after the deer as fast as her legs would carry her. The earth rumbled in her passage, birds and rodents alike fleeing in her wake while she gained on her quarry. There she was! Its tail was within her grasp! Another couple inches and…
Zavya broke past the tree line, stopping dead in her tracks when a sight much stranger than a deer met her eyes. The doe was entirely forgotten, fleeing into the distance as the tiger stepped closer to a wagon taking up most of the sparse path. Slow and cautious, the Kelvic looked around for any signs of people nearby; it was rare they came across others in the woods, but it wasn’t entirely unheard of. Finding no indications of other life nearby, Zavya took a few steps closer and started circling the cart—eyeing it for anything that could be of use to her and Einar.
A flash of sparkling light replaced the tiger with an olive-skinned human, scarred arms pulling her up into the wagon to see what she could find. Once again, she scanned the surrounding area to make sure no strangers were nearby and finding herself alone, she smiled. Maybe good luck does exist, she thought as she leaned down to start rifling through the closest crate. What are the odds of running into something like this?
The box, to her disgust and potentially her companion’s delight, was full of fruit, most of which she didn’t even know the name of. Pulling out a particularly round and sweet-smelling one, she gently squeezed it with a look bordering on horror. How could humans eat this shyke? What was the appeal?
Setting it back down, she lifted two fingers to her lips and let out three short whistles. Her human warder would be lingering somewhere nearby, she knew—even if it wasn’t close enough for him to see her, she knew he would hear. Zavya wasn’t sure if it was a fear of her stupidity or an obligation to her safety that kept him so close whenever she wandered off, but either way, she knew he wasn’t far. She was sure he would want to see this.
WC: 579
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