Makena of Fangpride prowled the savanna on silent feet, departing from the downed Impala. His keen, chocolate brown eyes were searching for his next victim. At last, breaking the silence was a rustle.
A short, fluffy tail peered just over the tall, golden grass, it's straw-colored fur nearly hidden among the foliage if it weren't for it's white tip. It was perfectly quiet as it crept along, the animal's camouflage nearly concealing it. Following it's presence was the sound of sniffing. After studying the seemingly familiar fur color, a young impala was what Makena expected to find. Lowering until his chest brushed the ground, he lurched forward. The animal's head jolted up, and it's round, black ears swiveled in every direction.
Makena finally sprung from the ground and roared, only to have the animal's fierce amber gaze directed to him, a vicious snarl in response. Makena got the suprise of his life when he landed on it's back and it swiftly retaliated by spinning around and burying sharp, bloodstained ivory fangs into his throat. Makena wheezed, his claws raking across the ground as he tried to heave himself from the beast's grip. Finally, he escaped it, an extensive patch of missing fur and tender, exposed skin with deep puncture wounds with blood trickling from them.
He flared the long fur on his neck and bristled his tail, pacing as he hissed at it, attempting to meet the same fierceness as the strange, peculiarly marked canine. It's expression seemed indifferent, not a glint of fear passing over it's ragefully flashing eyes.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" "Leave, cat," it snapped coldly, it's black lips rippling with a snarl as it bared it's bloody fangs at him. "You are scaring away the prey. Hunt elsewhere."
Makena's mouth parted as to say something but he restrained himself and left, his tail hanging low between his legs. Though more embarassed than anything, he could not help but wonder what the strange canid was. He'd never seen anything like it.
