Maea
And I only needed one more touch
Another taste of devouring rush
Another taste of devouring rush
The air was rich with scents, many still unknown to the Ancient who still had much to learn of what it meant to be shifted. Some things came for free, others had to be learned. Dry earth and wilting grass she knew, and the dust blowing in the evening breeze tasted just the same, gritty between the teeth. These things belonged to the season. Of far more interest was an aroma of soot and ash that she usually would associate with wildfires. But since no light was on the horizon and no rumors had reached her of anything burning in the vicinity, Maea's curiosity was piqued. Fire could mean a campfire, or a hazard brewing that required attention - or, it might be another Ancient.
Descending the hill, the tiger eased into a steady jog that engulfed the grassland beneath her paws. Savoring the strength and lightness of her stride in this form, she slowed only when the woodlands rose up to meet her and she could slip in beneath the shadow of arching canopies. The air was closer here, quieter and full of conflicting messages. She struggled to tell the difference between rabbit trails and squirrels, lingered over a tree stub where wolves had marked their territory, and made a wide berth around an area where a skunk had defended itself against some poor sod with bad taste in dinner. The temptation was there to follow all of them, explore the tracks and read traces of their comings and goings in a way that had been impossible as a human. Yet despite the hunger, that burned scent kept pulling at her. So she kept going.
Winding through the underbrush, shimmering with light and heat in the darkness, she was brought to a sudden halt by a rustle in the dry mulch. Something was moving up ahead, something big and heavy, that altered the temperature of the air. Sensitive whiskers picked up on minute changes in air pressure, estimating that the thing had to be at least as long as herself, if not bigger.
Crouching low, with the thick tail twitching back and forth in unbridled excitement, Maea inched forward. Prowling, more to see what this thing was than with any real intent to strike. Her stride was silent, remarkably so considering her size - until a dry twig suddenly snapped beneath her inexperienced paw, with a crack that ricocheted between the trees.
Descending the hill, the tiger eased into a steady jog that engulfed the grassland beneath her paws. Savoring the strength and lightness of her stride in this form, she slowed only when the woodlands rose up to meet her and she could slip in beneath the shadow of arching canopies. The air was closer here, quieter and full of conflicting messages. She struggled to tell the difference between rabbit trails and squirrels, lingered over a tree stub where wolves had marked their territory, and made a wide berth around an area where a skunk had defended itself against some poor sod with bad taste in dinner. The temptation was there to follow all of them, explore the tracks and read traces of their comings and goings in a way that had been impossible as a human. Yet despite the hunger, that burned scent kept pulling at her. So she kept going.
Winding through the underbrush, shimmering with light and heat in the darkness, she was brought to a sudden halt by a rustle in the dry mulch. Something was moving up ahead, something big and heavy, that altered the temperature of the air. Sensitive whiskers picked up on minute changes in air pressure, estimating that the thing had to be at least as long as herself, if not bigger.
Crouching low, with the thick tail twitching back and forth in unbridled excitement, Maea inched forward. Prowling, more to see what this thing was than with any real intent to strike. Her stride was silent, remarkably so considering her size - until a dry twig suddenly snapped beneath her inexperienced paw, with a crack that ricocheted between the trees.
But the room was so quiet
Whose side am I on?
Whose side am I on?
