The Mighty Hunter

All that have studied animals, and predators in particular know that the hunt can be more or less divided in to three stages; stalking, the actual hunt and then finally the capture. This hunt hadn’t been any different.

Normally the two creatures involved in this drama never interacted with eachother; in fact most of the time neither party paid the other any due but as fate had it, their paths crossed. One reason for the whole event was because “the hunter” had never before encountered “the prey” on his “hunting grounds” before. Usually there was a fence separating them. For a long time he simply watched in silence, standing absolutely still. His brother was sleeping at their mothers feet, tired after a game of chase, but this small hunter wasn’t tired – not yet.

The twolegged, those that gave good scratches where ones gums never really reached, had been doing something with his mothers feet that had been absolutely boring to watch, especially since you weren’t allowed to stick your nose in their faces so you could see properly. They had let them lose on the “other side of the fence” where the twolegged used to be. There were strange structures here, and just one was known to our hunter. The twolegged that usually cared for them used to take them in there when the water came from the above and made your fur wet.

Slowly the hunter began the first stage. The feathery foe simply started to walk off with a bob to its head, still continuing to scratch its odd looking feet in the ground. The hunter followed, slowly at first but then the speed picked up and the second stage began. Soon the chase was going back and forth, the prey cackles and flaps its wings trying to get airborne but to no avail. The predator could feel the victory in his nostrils, soon…soon…

As on most hunts it’s a mistake, either by the predator with getting seen too soon or starting the chase too late or by the prey with not seeing the predator or taking a bad step. So was the case in this hunt as well. Cornered, with no strength left after a wild chase around the yard for five minutes, the brown hen simply lies panting as the colt advances.

However, now caught the mighty hunter doesn’t really know what to do with his prey. He goes down on his knees to get closer. His mouth opens, revealing a pink gum with some small foal teeth coming out. They have itched and he had mouthed quite a few things, anything really that could ease the tingles. The hen is big however, far too big for a foal to be able to lift and all he get hold off is feathers, lots of feathers. By now the hen starts panicking and flaps her wings again, and suddenly there is a cloud of feathers around him. He still holds on until the hen all of a sudden is lost from his grip.

Quick steps are heard behind him, most likely drawn to the place by the commotion, almost like the smaller predators that follow the larger ones on the plains of Africa. The colt rises, his tail still wiggling in excitement of the chase. A blackhaired woman stands there, arms crossed over her chest, her strange leg-with-no-hoof-but-dressed-with-something-you-arent-allowed-to-eat is tapping the ground. He tilts his head as he smacks his lips trying to dislodge the red downy feathers that are still stuck in his mouth. His prey has now taken cover behind the twolegged.

Ace snorts. Chicken!

Words: 600

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Registered Name: Romancer
Barn Name: "Ace"
Sex: Stallion
Age: See stallionjournal
Breed: Australian Warmblood
Breed Grading:
Appearance: Grey (blk)
Genetics: Ee/aa/Gg
Height: projected height 17hh
Breeder/Owner/trainer: Gabriel Delacroix (=decors)
Sire + Dam: Touch of Romance (DWB) x Antiflow (AWB), Briar 899 –r (F2) (SWB)

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REF: Google, Stock by ~linka064 [link] and =Schn3e [link]