On a Platter [open]

[N•a•v•e•a]

[bg=666666][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=background,http://i75.photobucket.com/albums/i302/PittyLova/NaveaBack.png] The young hybrid slowly made her way through the tall grasses of the valley. Long limbs offered brown orbs access to the scenery from above the swaying, green tendrils, the chocolate gaze shifting across the horizon. Large radars stood at attention, pirouetting upon her narrow skull on red alert. Something was amiss upon the lands and she just wasn't quite sure what it was. Her home lands quieted, she hadn't seen another in what seemed to be weeks. A deafening silence penetrated all corners of Barzakh territory as well as Elysian. Her curiosity of the situation at hand brought her upon the peaceful canines' lands, searching the forests of the Elysian pack without so much as a grumble in response. Was she the only one? Were there any others alive upon the lands? Did Metnal strike without her even being aware? How would she not know of such an incident? Maybe humans appeared again and wiped every other canine out including the filthy Metnal beasts? The heavy pressure of loneliness that had grown upon her heart since her last encounter with that silly fox and big goofy dog began to wear on her, and now the thoughts flowing through her mind doubled the pressure. She would almost welcome company from anybody at this point. An unexpected breeze floated by carrying upon it a teasing scent of food. The adolescent wolf mix hadn't had a meal in days, and all she had managed to capture alone were some rodents to hold her over..to keep her alive. These were the times where the maturity that should have begun to take over a few months prior began to show it did exist some where within her. It always reared it's ugly head in the worst of times. Always showed itself when she realized she should have used it previously. If she wasn't so busy playing games and pranking any who crossed her path she may have had enough skill to take down something other then a rat or squirrel. Even most rabbits had managed to outsmart her in the hunting department. The worry that had creased her brow vanished, a tunnel forming around the scent, the sweet aroma of death. It was much too easy. Motion ceased as the wonderment of if this was actually real enveloped young Navea's being. Eyes glinted toward the downed doe and then scanned the immediate area. Black nares expanded pulling in the scent of spring blooms, fresh grasses, the distant sea, yet nothing of danger. Slender jaws parted slightly as if to seek a second opinion, the air dancing along her tongue to be sure nothing would be missed. A crooked smile soon replaced the confusion, tugging eagerly at dark lips. It seemed that the deer had managed to get its leg caught in some sort of hole...rabbit...gopher...did it matter? There it was, hungry...thirsty....and broken. Somebody might as well have handed her venison on a platter. Slowly and silently, erring on the side of caution, she approached the rather large doe, which was too weak to struggle with the presence of what would be deemed a predator. Over-sized ears continuously swiveled, keeping look out as she lowered herself to her pale chest before the fallen prey. Jaws split only to clutch down onto the soft throat of the soon to be meal, holding tightly with the weak struggling of the creature. It was only moments before the last breath was begged for.

[enantios]

[bg=000000][atrb=width,400px,true][atrb=border,0,true] The large brute's limbs carried him smoothly over the terrain, crushing the blades beneath his pads. His long, thin ail hung limply behind him, his head lowered beneath his shoulders. His amber orbs looked out upon the land before him. He'd caught the scent of a doe and was picking his way toward it. He'd apparently missed the fact that it was very far away. But as he grew closer the smell of fresh death and blood reached his nares. They flared and his pace quickened. Wait, that was the smell of canine. And it was not Metnal. He couldn't quite place what the stench was but he knew that for certain. Was this a loner? Or were they from another pack and were scouting for a chance to attack the Metnal? Anyway, he had to find out. And the smell was coming from the direction of the deer. His long limbs picked up from under him and he bound toward the canine. As he grew near his muscles tensed, his movements becoming stiff as he readied himself for an unexpected attack. His muscular shoulders pushed through the grass and his head raised up, his fangs bared. His haunches raised. This was not a Metnal and was therefor a potential enemy in his mind. And so the hulking Enantios slouched toward the small hybrid and her fresh kill. His mind set on mixing her blood with its.

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[N•a•v•e•a]

[bg=666666][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=background,http://i75.photobucket.com/albums/i302/PittyLova/NaveaBack.png] Death. It was something Navea knew all too well yet was still completely unsure of her outlook on it all. Though unlike many the thought of it did not frighten the youngster. She never sought it out on her own, though it seemed as though her life had been saturated in it in the literal and nonliterary senses. Death of family. Death of kinship. Death of...what was next? What thoughts to course through her mind as she lay upon the cool earth, two streams of crimson fluid trickling from either side of her slender maw. This must be insanely simple for one to be bored enough to wander in thought while making a kill. This must be what those monstrous canines felt like when taken down a healthy deer. As her inner ramblings became obvious to herself her jaws released the doe's punctured throat. A pain stabbed at her gut in response to the release, demanding that she dives into the kill without a moment's pause. Hunger was twisting her stomach, begging for relief. Two dainty front paws reached forward, dragging her small frame along the crushed foliage toward the underside of the deer. As fangs sunk into the soft flesh, the taste of relief dancing merrily upon her tongue a rustle was heard only a short distance away. Triangular soldiers swiveled in the direction of the near silent paw falls, a deep growl of warning bouncing about in her chest. The deep gurgling sound rolled around the mouthful of muscle and seeped from between pristine fangs. The much taller male's presence suddenly towered over her, his appearance forcing the hunk of meat down her throat. Her bodice rose, front limbs spread widely apart offering the young fae leverage. If this little girl had any faults it could be seen at her ideas on herself. In Navea's mind she could outsmart or outfight anything out there. It was a personality trait that had gotten her into much trouble as a pup, and still at nearly a year old it never faded. Would she ever learn? The sleek fur along her spine bristled, the thin skin of her snout rising in a sea of wrinkles flashing ivory weapons at the large brute. Who he was she didn't care. If he touched her meal she'd rip his throat out and make a cannibal of herself...or so she surely believed. Vicious snarls spat from the emaciated adolescent, a thick tail rising slowly to a more dominant state, yet another flag of warning.