bitter winds and broken bones -- open

[GRAIL]

GRAIL

• canine  |  male  |  loner  ▴▴▴
  

The weather was horrid out. Snowfall and blizzard like conditions had pushed most of the prey into hiding and by the gods it was frustrating Grail beyond end! He had traveled out from his own small territory near river's edge and much farther than he would have liked; entering the forest didn't make him any more comfortable. Just find some food and get the hell outta dodge, he thought, looking around and lifting his head up to sniff the air, There had to be something out here, right?

A grumble in his stomach pulled him out of his concentration and he whined, "Cut it out, I'm tryin' my best..." He was speaking to his own stomach, but for the most part, idle comments to himself didn't bother him. It was a lonely world these days, after all, so it was just good to know he could hear his own voice.

[sub]bio  --  [abbr=horned belgian shepherd, suffering from the harsh winter's lack of food, health: 78%, moderate physically, hard mentally, no kill/capture/maim]tags[/abbr][/sub]

[bracken]

[div style="width: 550px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 8.3pt; letter-spacing: .3px; line-height: 1.35;"][align=center]7 FEB 2019. / WORD COUNT 327 LISTENING TO MARIE ANTOINETTE by CURVED AIR / TAGS

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ooc: sorry it took me so long to reply!

Burning skin barely felt the bitter cold — hungry eyes saw none of the blizzard. Zeroed in on a lone winter hair, the creature crept and crept until creeping was impossible; a dark shadow, he burst from the withered undergrowth, kicking snow and dirt from beneath his paws in a gruelling, neck-and-neck pursuit. The hare ducked beneath a root and he leaped it — it swerved near a tree and he bounced off the trunk, snapping pearly gates at his prey's heels. Neither could afford a misstep — both knew one eventually would suffer. Whether through blood or starvation, either dog or hare would succumb to this winter.

Today's loser was the latter. It snagged on brambles just long enough to miss a fraction of an inch in one bound and the predator was upon it in a heartbeat, life beating out in a shuddering, twitchy jolt and red pulses between sharp teeth. Bracken loosened his grip, stretched his jaw and dropped, tearing into his meal with abandon. There was no time for appreciating the taste and he wolfed down morsels desperately — it wasn't much of a prize, but it was better than nothing. Days without a meal made life hard holding on until warmer weather, but the springtime boom was worth it. A shame this hare wouldn't see summer bloom again. To the victor go the spoils.

These forests were deserted — to hear a voice other than his own was a rarity. As such, the reedy whine had his ears perking. This had been his territory for many a long month and intruders were typically looking to steal from him, not form a pack. Though never a fighter at heart, he bore scars from his battles, an indicator of the triumphs that had secured his position here.

Nevertheless, Bracken refused to begin with aggression. Eyes darting until he spotted the dark figure slinking metres away, he lifted his head, guarding the remains of his hunt, and barked: "Who's there?"

[GRAIL]

GRAIL

• canine  |  male  |  loner  ▴▴▴
  

At the heavy bark, Grail froze. For a split second his ears laid flat against his skull as he felt a growl in his throat, but he shook his head, looking at the source, another soul. The black dog frowned, "I could ask the same of you," he muttered, only half sarcastic before he sat down in the snow, "but if you need to call me something, Grail will do." He said, looking at the other and silently surveying the possible challenge.

Grail didn't want a fight. He was in no well condition to fight. But out here he was never certain what other souls would do. So despite his rather passive sit and speaking, he could feel the tensity in his haunches. If it came to it, he'd be ready to fight. However, a sudden growl in his stomach was a very real and very gnawing distraction, causing his ear to flick with annoyance. Of course. The first soul I run into can't be prey. It has to be someone WITH prey. He thought bitterly.

[sub]bio  --  [abbr=horned belgian shepherd, suffering from the harsh winter's lack of food, health: 78%, moderate physically, hard mentally, no kill/capture/maim]tags[/abbr][/sub]