The grass rustled, and light footsteps marched its way towards the tall grass, too faint to be audible. A Pyroar, accompanied by her two cubs eyed a large, fully-grown Gogoat with a sharp glint in their eye from their hiding spot. They had found their prey. It would be enough to provide them sustenance for many days.
Hook
And the chase began. Pyroar started sprinting; accelerating her speed as she closed in the distance between her and the Gogoat, and her cubs followed her movements. Sensing some disturbance in the grass, Gogoat was alarmed and it started running for its life.
Line
40 metres… 30 metres… 20 metres… Pyroar slowly caught up to it and pounced on it, sinking her fiery canines into Gogoat's spine. As the sensation of warmth spread over its back, Gogoat decided to make its move. It took dangerously sharp turns and began to jump wildly, a smart tactic to throw Pyroar off its back. As the battle of will continued over time, she seemed to struggle and would be at a disadvantage if she didn't go for the kill soon.
Sinker
Two small figures sunk their canines on either of Gogoat's legs, and Gogoat was forced to stop in its tracks. The cubs were the secret weapon, a forgotten link; the X-factor. All hopes of survival for Gogoat seemed to have been quashed as it neared its demise but then… the cubs loosened their grip.
Suddenly, Gogoat managed to muster all of the strength it had in its reserves and threw the cubs off its legs with powerful kicks. The realization of her cubs being harmed startled the mother, and she lost her grip and fell to the ground with a thud. The Gogoat rammed its horns on her belly without any delay and continued the assault until blood began to leak from it. It left the scene with a triumphant cry and a feeling of relief.
Pyroar slowly strode towards her cubs, gravely injured by Gogoat's horns with blood spurting out of her body in large amounts, and collapsed on her way. Traumatized by the occurrence of the events, her cubs ran towards her and started licking her face in hopes of awakening their mother from her deep slumber, but there was no response. They continued the action for an hour, after which they laid next to their mother, their face making contact with hers. A feeling of sorrow washed over the area s they took comfort for the last time.
The Litleo were alone in the world now with the death of their mother. They would need to learn the ebb and flow of a hunt and fend off enemies by themselves. Nobody would be there to correct their mistakes.
To survive in the Wilds, you could not take anything for granted. There is a race amongst everybody to be at the top of the food chain.
A drop of tear rolled down from my eyes as I noted this encounter in my journal.
