Full Moon's Circle, part 17 ... Silverhour

The giant cat slumbered quietly for the first time in days, finally north enough to feel the cold winds of its native land. Hunger still gnawed on its wasted frame, but the feeling of starvation had passed, knowing that there must be food not far away. There had been an unusual scent in the air when it had bedded down, but the journey had been long and tiring; if it was still noticeable in the morning it would follow it to the source. There was something familiar about the odor, but the cougars ravaged mind couldn’t register it. A gentle breeze rustled the fur on its ears, causing them to twitch in its sleep.

Darktips’ usual watch ended with the sun rising, along with his two sons and the small group below them. Silently, he led them along the ridge until it started to decent into the valley below, making sure not to cross paths with the hunters that traveled as well. There was something strange about the procession they followed; they had brought their young. Darktips had never seen a hunter cub, which like his own, resembled the adults in miniature. He had never taken his cubs beyond his territory, and since they were far from any dwelling the hunters might claim, he was curious as to why they would be along for this trek.

Grayback was more concerned with what they carried than what who was traveling. He did not see the rifles they usually carried, but that did not mean they did not have them. Hunters could only be there for one reason, and he could still remember their last altercation and the inevitable result of every encounter. The young with them were of little concern, as every cub must endure its own rite of passage. If he had felt braver he might have questioned Darktips on following the hunters instead of the prey they had tracked, as he seemed to have lost sight of their reason for leaving the den unprotected. His faith in Darktips’ leadership had been waning steadily, and defeat by his mates sire had only marginally stalled his doubts. Perhaps when this business was through he would once again attempt to take Fieldspirit away.

The third of there trio was also pacing, anxious to be after the beast that attacked his mother. Howlingwoods would never question his sires actions, but he did not share Darktips’ curiosity in the hunters. He could see no reason for being so close to them, they seemed to pose no threat and were oblivious to their presence; there was no reason to afford them this much attention. The hunters were not here for them, and they were not here for the hunters, there was no need for the wasted time. Darktips seemed to have justification for his distraction, however, and Howlingwoods had no choice but to obey.

The sun had awakened the mountain lion, and it too saw the small parade of hunters, growling indignantly at their presence. They had chased it from its kingdom before, but the cat would not leave so easily the next time. There were little ones with this group, an oddity that was not unnoticed. It had been denied a meal of the cubs, but perhaps the hunters would not be so fiercely devoted to their young. Licking it’s whiskers in anticipation, the cougar sat in wait for the procession to pass, too intent on its target to notice the trio that shadowed the hunters, running parallel across the gorge.

Show all stories by   Author:  5353 ( Click here )