“I found it first.”
“I found it first.” You say, bearing your fangs threateningly.
“Hey hey, no need for any of that.” He carried his frame around you and the kill, almost circling you like one of the vultures flying overhead. “I’m just here for the same reason you are.” His tail flickers, gesturing to the kill, the flies the strong scent attracts drone around your faces as you stare each other down. Your own athletic body is much larger than the male’s, he holds his body such that he appears even smaller compared to you, as he submissively crouches to sniff the bleeding corpse.
You think to yourself how this lion has as much of a right to this corpse as you do, and it’d be the right thing to allow him to have some of your food. Your dominance radiates over him as you watch him begin to take bites out of the flesh, tearing off thin strips of meat clinging tightly to bone. His sharp fangs leave deep scrape marks as they scratch against the ribcage of the animal, squirting hot red blood onto his pelt. The lion begins to consume the kill more aggressively, splashing blood onto the ground as it forms pools from the torn muscles of the gazelle, his paws become tinted red as they soak up the blood on the ground he stands on.
You figure he was just particularly hungry, taking into consideration his skinny body. You wonder how he could have hunted and taken down prey by himself, when a pack of lionesses would have trouble taking something this size down. His brown fur cakes in a dark almost purple in hue, a deep color painted his face as he looked up at you, thankfully. You continue to watch him as he cleans himself right in front of you, not saying a word but looking away, as to say he’s comfortable around you.
He forces you to let your guard down, you sit and stare at him before clearing your throat.
“So what are you doing here?” you say sternly. He continues to clean himself. “Hey did you hear me!?” You roar, feeling even more invigorated after a meal like that. The blood covered lion looks up at you, not raising his head, but only his eyes as he licks the blood from his paws.
“Huh?” he says. “Oh yes.” annoyance spreads across your face as you know he heard you the first time. “My name is of no matter...” You two exchange a glance as you take in each other’s individual scents. You introduce yourself as well, before finding yourself trapped in historical conversation,
“The pride tends to stick together, but some of us go off on our own when we feel like it, I’ve been a loner for several years now.” The sound of his voice telling his experiences as if happened just yesterday. His words stick to your ears as you consider all the things he’s been through, thinking to yourself how rough this guy may be. Once again looking over the skin pulled tightly over his rugged bones, open wounds part the fur around scars lining his limbs.
Written by Driftingdragon on 07 December 2019
“So what do you do out here?”