50th of Fall, 515AV
15th Bell, Afternoon
Sea of Grass
15th Bell, Afternoon
Sea of Grass
It was ideal for hunting, as far as Ixzo could tell. The stream was the only one she could find that wasn't close to the people. Preferably, this tactic would work in the dry season, and with a pack, but the Kelvic didn't have that luxury. She needed one good kill to get her feet in civilization, and so she waited. At the moment, however Ixzo wasn't hunting. It was far too early in the night for any animals to be retreating away from the watering hole, so now she made no effort. She had previous to however many moons had passed, the Kelvic had no enjoyed the bountiful hunting grounds of the open plains, but she quickly learned this was what she was built for. Even if when she was alone she could merely snag a quail at best.
And that was why today's challenge was so important. Anything that she could get, that was of worth, would be her ticket back to the humans. Back to where she was supposed to be, instead of out alone, going crazy.
Large graceful paws pressed into the mud that lined the banks. On the other side, a giraffe raised his head from drinking, keeping a careful eye on the lioness. Attempting to go after that would end in her own death, that much she knew.
Worry not, you'll find no harm from me. She let the thought pass, continuing along the bank, coming up on a cluster of bushes. But before she could step any further, the wind picked up, carrying the mouth-watering scent of… something towards her. Opening her mouth to taste the scent better, Ixzo was able to recognize it as herbivore, and there was blood. But it was not fresh blood of a hearty meal, but old blood, of a wound. Or perhaps a birth. Without seeing, she would not know.
Without thinking about preserving her energy, Ixzo felt herself lowering into a crouch. Day was not in her favor, but perhaps it would do.