04-04-2020, 02:50 AM
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The nose of a famished scavenger could pinpoint the fainted whiff of meat from great distances. Even when said nose hid behind the silver-plated nozzle of a featureless gas mask. Hunger had driven him for as long as he could remember, empty stomach gnawing at his ribs and begging for any morsel he could find. With compliance as the only reasonable option, the young wolverine trudged across scorched terrain, sand collected between his claws and irritating the gaps with stinging grit. Yet his stride did not falter until the scent trail brought him to the sight of a mouth-watering carcass.
Nikolai could recognize the antlers and hooves of a deer from anywhere, even when miles from his homeland. What he didn't recognize, however, was the hound dragging his next meal along. Not that it mattered too much. She seemed to speak the same foreign tongue as every other creature within this equally foreign desert. But nothing he couldn't adapt to.
Single pale eye narrowing, he held his distance, hovering on the sideline like a vulture circling a dying beast. In his starved wait, a paw reached behind his head to unlatch the lower straps of his mask, allowing it to slacken on his disfigured face. Tilting the muzzle up just enough to expose horrifically scarred jowls, Nikolai stiffened as another's voice approached, his halved vision impaired by the mask at its angle. A distraction for the huntress; his opportunity to feed. Lunging forward, jaws clamped onto the dead leg of the deer, wrenching the hip free of its socket in a quick move and taking a good chunk of meat with it. The wolverine retreated as quickly as he had struck, eager to find someplace private to enjoy his dinner.
Nikolai could recognize the antlers and hooves of a deer from anywhere, even when miles from his homeland. What he didn't recognize, however, was the hound dragging his next meal along. Not that it mattered too much. She seemed to speak the same foreign tongue as every other creature within this equally foreign desert. But nothing he couldn't adapt to.
Single pale eye narrowing, he held his distance, hovering on the sideline like a vulture circling a dying beast. In his starved wait, a paw reached behind his head to unlatch the lower straps of his mask, allowing it to slacken on his disfigured face. Tilting the muzzle up just enough to expose horrifically scarred jowls, Nikolai stiffened as another's voice approached, his halved vision impaired by the mask at its angle. A distraction for the huntress; his opportunity to feed. Lunging forward, jaws clamped onto the dead leg of the deer, wrenching the hip free of its socket in a quick move and taking a good chunk of meat with it. The wolverine retreated as quickly as he had struck, eager to find someplace private to enjoy his dinner.