Title-- Hunt-Test
Rating and Warnings-- PG-13 for violence and gore.
Species and Characters-- Species = Korat. Character is Jasal, a young tan-white femme, with a cameo of Shula (Redwood's grandson and Akartis' son, red male) and Atumi, black master. Also featured species-wise are Quomai, which are fifty-foot high elephant/turtle preybeasts with attitudes. Well, basically, anyways. XD;;
Summary and Notes-- Jasal, being a striped, is forced to prove herself to her warrior-pack by killing a Quomai alone--a task nigh-impossible for any lone Korat. Note: This was written a year or two ago, so forgive its minor flaws. ^^;;



A silent form slunk forward, barrelled torso and thick tail held low to the ground. A wicked tailblade ending in a hook-like, razor-sharp tip was concealed by the tall grass, no sunlight reflecting from its polished ivory surface. Triangular longclaws, belonging in archetype to a white, were held at a tilted angle above narrow, curving claws more suited to a tan. Long, powerfully muscled limbs held the power of a white, but the torso lacked the truly deep chest and large neck, instead having a slimmer body and neck, as well as a sharply defined muzzle. Medium-length fur of a silvery blue was striped with jagged golden markings, and eyes of brilliant sapphire regarded the world with a curious gaze.

Jasal paused, listening to the deafeningly loud vocalizations of the herd of Quomai she'd been trailing for weeks. Her pack was one of warriors, and for them to accept a striped, one of the 'weak' mutations, she was required to bring down one of the beasts by herself -- a task nearing impossibility even for the best of Korats. However, she'd managed to wound one badly, and was trailing it to watch for its demise... just as a pack member, whom was supposed to stay undetected, was following her to ascertain that she accomplished this feat unaided. The adolescent hybrid perked her tufted ears and raised her muzzle as her prey moaned loudly and crashed to its knees, the ground shuddering with the impact. The massive teal-shelled, grey-skinned beast bugled once, then fell with a thunderous boom. The rest of the herd glanced at it, and meandered away. If there was no active predator, there was no one to pummel in revenge of the death.

The striped grinned fiercely, her teeth further displaying her mixed bloodlines -- long white-bred fangs, but narrow and sharp tan-bred teeth, with sturdy white-bred molars in the back of her strong jaws. Without hesitation, after of course the herd moved somewhat farther off, she bounded forward, but a delicate scent stopped her dead in her tracks. Lowering her muzzle and inhaling deeply washed the scent past the sensitive receptor cells in her nostrils, but light and dainty sniffs revealed a Koratian boundary, that of a purely Korat pack. Jasal mentally flinched, and stared at the prey she had yet to truly claim, confused. No Korat pack was in this direction, except for Shula's famous warrior-pack... but the youngling had a hard time fathoming that she'd traveled all the way to said far-off pack without noticing. But there was no other pure-Korat pack nearby...!

Jasal debated with herself for several long moments, repeatedly sniffing the boundary marking, and regarding the inanimate, gargantuan corpse of the lone Quomai. She could not risk expulsion from her pack! With those thoughts running through her veins, the jewel-eyed femme lunged forward and within seconds, bounded atop the carcass, standing briefly on the smooth shell of the beast to claim it as her kill. The scent of her pack member follower, a white male, reached her, just as the male himself stepped from the brush, meters from the territory line. "Good job, striped! Now come back. You're acceptable to the pack." A strange tone coated his voice, "Come on back to us." Almost as though he didn't believe she could.

The hybrid growled under her breath, swift gaze sweeping the empty meadow. Nothing. If this truly were Shula's mighty pack, though... she was in severe and immediate danger. Raw intuition spun her around and flung her backwards to avoid a sweeping blade-strike from a gorgeous and well-muscled black; the surprised glint in his teal eyes suggested that the blow was meant as a challenge, not as a killing attack, and that it was not meant to be dodged. So the male pressed the attack, and Jasal hooked the tip of her blade to stop his, clashed longclaws to avoid being disemboweled, and locked forehands with the black -- all within a nanosecond of speedful and fluid motions. Muzzles pressed against each other's skulls and lips curled high, the two Korats growled their displeasure with the other's existence.

A rumble shook the ground and alerted the dueling pair. The black's ears funneled forward and the striped's lobes flicked back to catch the noise of a lone beast trotting back to the carcass, perhaps having caught with its keen vision the two Korats atop its fellow's shell. Sapphire and teal eyes stared into the other's for a moment, before a mutual sentiment flung both Korats apart. The black sprang away and disappeared into the tall grass, but Jasal slid down the shell, over the sharp-edged lip, and onto the massive reptilian head of the fifty-foot herbivore, shaggy fur scraping on the armored skin. Don't grip! she warned herself, for drawing blood now was certain doom. The adolescent let herself slide unhindered from the wedge-shaped, blunt-muzzled head to the grass below, landing with a thud and instantly rolling. A sniff took in the presence of the dead beast's mate, and an angry one at that.

Trouble. One stomp of those elephantine feet could crush a Korat without any effort on the Quomai's behalf. Jasal muted a growl and glanced about the fields -- Quomai could outrun a Korat, even one as fast as she. Too bad it was she and not the black who'd been spotted. With a spontaneous kick towards the only possible hiding place, the hybrid propelled herself under the carcass, in a hollow under the awkwardly-stretched foreleg. Thuds announced the live Quomai's movement, and Jasal thought quickly. Quomai don't trample their dead. But they might move it-- And just as that thought arose, the carcass was gently rolled halfway over, and the near-adult lunged into a much smaller nook between shell-lip and flank. One more push and I'm done for!

One more push was given and Jasal leapt into the air and raced away, pursued by a stampeding, enraged Quomai. Abruptly skidding to a stop, the striped turned and looked at the dark blue and grey beast, exhaling a heavy breath in rapid thought. Why not? I got one before on my own. With a reckless grin, the femme surged forward, bounding around the bellowing herbivore... ricocheting onto its shell... dodging snaps from the powerful, needle-toothed jaws... and finally attaching herself to the blunt end of its muzzle. This'll get me killed! she mentally yelled, the thrill of danger racing in her blood and pounding through her heart as the beast opened its jaws to bellow angrily. Jasal flung herself into its mouth and winced as the snout shut and the Quomai swallowed her whole.

The silvery, golden-striped fur matted in the acidic saliva -- though Quomai are herbivores, they'll often swallow small predators because of their powerful stomach acids, capable of dissolving flesh within minutes. As she slid down the muscular throat, Jasal lashed out and hooked claws and blade into the tissue surrounding her. Braced with paws and claws, she began blindly swinging her blade. One minute passed... then two. Korats can only hold their breath for six or so minutes, and Jasal hadn't taken a big lungful in the first place. Three minutes. Bright spots began to dot the blackness against closed eyelids, and her muscles tired in the frantic efforts to slit the Quomai's throat from the inside. Four minutes. Weakened and oxygenless, the young Korat slumped, before self-preservation instincts kicked in and lent panicked strength to her efforts. Finally, the hooked tip of her blade pierced the armored skin, slicing an exit to life -- and signing the Quomai's death warrant. Desperate, Jasal propelled herself out of the mangled throat and hit the ground hard, rolling out of instinct and coming to a gasping halt. The gargantuan Quomai's eyes became glassy, and the beast fell to its knees, then onto its side.

Sapphire eyes opened and Jasal staggered to her paws, shaking most of the gore from her shaggy pelt and peering about her. The entire pack had gathered -- many tans and a few blacks perched in the distant trees, several reds, a shocking number of stripeds, and one white on the ground. Lungs working hard to replenish the needed gases in her system, the hybrid sank onto her haunches, forelegs splayed to support her heaving torso. A grin parted her lips and she looked up, towards the brush -- her fellow pack member was long gone, never crossed the territory line and now not within scent-shot. Then, her jewel-toned gaze fell back to the pack nearby, glancing at the black who'd challenged her. Then, a red. The burly male stood slightly before the other Korats, yet behind the black. He must be Shula -- no other Korat could hold such a commanding gaze and fierce warrior-spirit, yet watch her triumph with a warm grin on his broad muzzle. Mahogany and blue orbs met, and Jasal lowered her muzzle in a respectful, but not awed, gesture. To the black, she also nodded deeply.

Breath caught and heart back to a calm, steady rhythm, the young Korat rose gracefully, muscles rippling under damp fur. Her muzzle turned once towards her territory, and the acceptance she knew would await her. But never back-up, never friendship. The white had proven that today; he had watched her struggle against the odds, against a prey animal that all predators have the obligation to harvest humanely, and had not lifted a whisker in her aid. One tufted ear canted backwards, towards the silent pack facing her. She had trespassed into the feared Shula's territory and lived. She had combatted the black challenger, and had survived his power, though she did not know his identity. (Had she known she had tusseled with the infamous Atumi, she would've been far more awed.)

Without a backwards glance and with a confident grin, Jasal turned and loped towards her home, wickedly curved blade flickering once in the orange-tinged sunlight in a cocky farewell to Shula and his pack.