Into The Woods

Hollow Lowlands 
#1
There was more than frogs and crickets out this evening. Mud and moss squelched beneath wide saucer sized paws, the hooked black nails at the tips of calloused toes pulling grooves up behind them as the beast that they carried moved with purpose through the woods. Hunting was good here, if not a more narrow selection. Deer came to drink, but only when the sun still hung between the trees. Fish were plenty, but required patience. The hyena preferred, most of all, the turtles that littered the shallow waters and shores of the snaking streams and ponds. That was why he'd come.

But, there was more than frogs and crickets and turtles and a hyena out this evening. There was more than one hyena out this evening. He knew, because he smelled it. Sensed it, in a way. Like a pull toward some direction, though he couldn't hope to pinpoint so easily. Silver eyes raked the treeline around him, rounded ears cupped forward and crescent nostrils flaring with vigor to sort through the muggy stench of the lowlands. From his low, barreled chest would flow a dissonant song of whoops and chatters, quieted some for the purpose of not drawing unwanted attention, but loud enough to lead the kin he sought toward him. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he did hope it was not someone he recognized. Perhaps Pete's lost pup, if he would be so lucky.

@Summer Lovin'
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#2
There actually was more than one hyena out this evening. The mud-scraggled animal held to some freshly murdered tiny deer. The prey matched the predator in its ill-fated existence.

The animal was wild-eyed, and angry at the feeling he felt. He did not like this sense of others around, stronger than him always, constantly chasing him down. He did not like even more that they felt similar to him. Smelled similar.

He stalked, hoping to maul and chase them away from what he'd animalistically claimed as his turf, eyes wild and watchful with ferality.
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#3
The brown hyena was in an entirely different state of mind. She wasn't hunting anything right now, having already upturned a small box turtle that she'd crunched down almost immediately some half-hour back. Currently she was wallowing, feeling really good and cool and protected from bugs as she quite literally coated herself from snooty to booty in dark muck that was darker than her chocolate fur and caked into her pale golden ruff.

This was why she didn't smell them, with mud all in her nose, enjoying the romp for the sake of it--a fantastic break after a long day at work.

She had so little experience with her own kind that she almost didn't even realize the sensation of metaphysical distances closing, flopping her head about instead to flick mud from her ears.
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#4
No answer save the growing beacon of a scent, and what the beast was certain was the rustling of nearby brush. He paused, tail arched high in a corkscrew fashioner his back as he lifted his square head. His broad muzzle titled upward, and he sniffed at the air to assess it. A heavy brow furrowed, and he directed his attention to one direction in particular, his elevated eyesight cutting through the velvet black and blue shadows that the moon's rays couldn't wash into clarity. A shape moving, though still some hundred feet off. The hyena padded a few steps forward, another low whoop of a call coming forth from his throat.
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#5
Then there were two, and he paused his stalking, head turning, ears angling. This was less favorable, always. Stock still, the hyena dropped his catch and attempted a fearful sort of bellow, though the intent was anything but submission. Fear produced aggression as easily as anger did, and feeling cornered between the two approaches, the animal flashed his teeth at the movements in the night.

Whoever appeared first would be his target.
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#6
There was something.

The brown hyena got enough mud out of her ears and snorted some out of her nose and managed to get her wits about her again when she felt more than heard the first whoop, just in time to actually hear the second noise that followed. Her fur raised--or tried to. Impossible, really, under the layer of muck that slicked everything down.

But still, she wasn't alone. At all. Was it Becky, she couldn't help but wonder? Blinking and turning, she shook herself out some more, hesitating on calling, waiting to hear if anything else followed, still somewhat muted from the mud and trying to parse out the reality of her world before she moved to action.
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#7
There, a noise. But it wasn't the same sound of curious greeting as he was extending. Instead, there was a fearful edge to it that spoke of an animal feeling cornered. Echo's ears flickered forward as he narrowed his scope onto the sound, and moved purposefully toward it. He could see now a figure, smaller than him but not by much, outlined in moonlight and trembling. The hyena stopped where he was, yards away, and called to the creature with a bark that beckoned it forward. It was defensive, but not threatening, and he worked to keep his posture much the same. Stiffened legs, head low as he watched what the unfamiliar hyena would do.
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#8
It was enough that the other feelings were stronger. Now this animal that appeared before him was bigger, too. Aggression being his only respite, unwilling to share his kill or his space.

The smaller hyena launched at the other, throttling his weight in a full leap as he sought to bite at the lengthy side of the other's neck.



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#9
She could hear them. The sound ahead that paired with the sensation of familiarity. A feeling she'd been dying for really, more than one hyena. So she shook out her fur as hard as she could, swiped her forepaws over her face to try and clear them more. She was a mucky, muddy mess, but she didn't care too much about her appearances, and set off to find them, unaware of the fight that was breaking out as she did so.
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#10
There was a singular bead of silence that hung in the air between them, in which the hyena sought to fill with a low chattering call. It was cut short and redirected into a higher pitched whoop of surprise and warning as the smaller, scraggly hyena rushed for him. He threw his weight onto his hind legs to pivot away, tail flagging stiffly into the air as he cackled in that trademark sound. He was a beat too slow, though, and he let out a snarl as the teeth sunk easily into his flesh and the weight of the other hyena crashed into him.

Anger broiled hotly through him in an instant, reasoning being torn into pieces as the pain of the bite spurred a reaction he would never deny himself. So he pivoted back into the smaller male, his head jerking free of the grasp as he lunged to take in the upper part of the hyena's back leg, his wide jaws snapping around what he could as a chorus of high pitched, whistling sounds echoed from his chest. With his hold, he sought to shake his head with as much force as he could muster, meaning to shred and tear the skin and muscle.


HIT

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#11
It was a shrieking, rapid thunderclash of movement. He had a hold and lost it, and the other punished him resoundly, shredding his furred flesh to ribbons. The hyena flailed in the grasp but could not escape it, attempted to land repeated bites at the other's body but found his teeth scraping ineffectively. He was unable to keep himself on his feet, at risk for twisting himself onto his back just there.

But he wasn't done, naturally; not enough to try to escape. Where could he escape to, when he was cornered!


miss!!!

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#12
Her obliviousness did not last long, and she heard the noises of her own kind--in distress and anger. Her pointed ears perked and her green eyes widened, and suddenly her eager lope was more like a gallop. She dodged scraggly trees and all but tripped her way through some muck, but there they were--just ahead, and locked in battle.

Both spotted, one smaller, weaker than the other, nearly on his back, at the mercy of the larger one to her eyes.

She had no idea what was going on, but she wasn't about to stand there and let them tear each other apart. Ducking her head and squaring her rough-furred shoulders, she charged and sought to barrel into the larger one, to knock him away from the one being shredded.



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#13
The smaller creature buckled under his attack, struggling to remain standing, failing to get his bearings back. If he could have, Echo would have laughed cruelly. For all the gall he'd started with, it was easily ripped from the whelp. Echo sought to bring him to the ground, brutalize him enough to keep him down for at least a few moments. He wouldn't get far, though, before his body was wracked from another impact. This one was smaller, but did not lack the punch of a healthy creature. His grip faltered, and the hyena wailed angrily as he staggered to the side, then pivoted around to face his new assailant. His lips peeled back, teeth yellow and crooked. A hyena, though this one was a different make. Smaller, striped, sporting a ruffed mane that struggled to stand on end through a layer of mud.

This one wasn't so weak as the one he'd torn into. He had a few fleeting moments of consideration. She seemed defensive, aggressive, but not immediately tooth and claw. Likely seeking to break up a fight before it escalated. Did she know the sniveling whelp? This wasn't Pete, but perhaps she knew her. Perhaps this was the fledgeling that wished to die. He'd made a promise, but he'd never said anything about what he'd do if the child attacked first. There was a lesson to be learned here. And with the pain of the skin at the side of his neck coursing through him, he was not so inclined to refrain. He needed her gone.

So he would rush forward, snarling and barking, his teeth gnashing as he sought to drive her away.


no attack dis round just tryin to be scary

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#14
The other one he'd felt appeared and she... attacked the one that he'd been attacking as he faltered on his shredded leg. What was happening? Who was she? He didn't know, but he still didn't want to share. Maybe they could get rid of the first one together and then he could get rid of her. Or maybe he should help the first one get rid of her and then get rid of him.

He panted and whooped, looking for whatever opening he could manage, and then stumbled forward on three legs to go for a bite into the male's hip.


hit :[

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#15
It was successful and she felt powerful for it--bold. She might not have been the biggest or the baddest around, but the brown hyena had a personality that knew little of fear and everything of determination. When the large spotted boy was shoved harshly away, she stood her ground, her legs wide and prepared for a fight if he decided to be an asshole.

Which he was, coming screaming at her, and she screamed right back, not about to be made into a chicken just because he had balls on him.

But the smaller one seemed to think it was time to gang up on the mean one. She supposed he couldn't be blamed, but he would have been better off retreating--and she wasn't here to make this two-on-one any direction. She had no grief with either of them.

So while the smaller male was making a mean mess of Mr. Snarly, she took her chance with the distraction that likely saved her from getting a face full of teeth herself, and repeating her prior action she shoved herself bodily and forcefully into the new attacker, to separate the males once more.



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#16
The female was dog headed enough not to flee, and he could not help but establish some level of respect amidst the swelling of frustration. He may have lunged again, but the whelp was more inclined to but up more of a fight than what he was worth. Echo rounded inward, his hindquarters pulling toward the earth as he pivoted in attempt to evade the attack, but it was once again to no avail. Small as he was, he was quick, and the younger male managed to snag painfully in on his haunch. The hyena cried out his pain, and it tapered into a snarl as he wheeled his front half upward and attempted to throw his weight atop the smaller hyena. But, the charging mud covered female bowled into them, and shoved the smaller spotted male away from his clutches, which tore at the wound it was slicing into Echo's hip.


miss for tackle/grapple

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#17
She was the target, then. This he decided as she suddenly crashed into him, sending him rolling as he failed to keep his weight on the injured limb.

He yelled, whooped, screeched, and all around made a scrabbling and desperate attempt for her next once he'd righted himself, but he would miss her face by inches.


miss!

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