swamp triumph [open]

[attr="class","skadipost"]
The swamp was icky. Especially in summer. Skadi's nose wrinkled as she stepped in yet another thatch of long swamp-grass that concealed soupy mud. It squelched beneath the weight of her paw, and she could feel the way the mud seeped between her toes and soaked into the long white fur on the tops of her paws. Ewwww, gross. Her tail lashed back and forth a bit disdainfully, and the ginger loner lifted one paw to shake the mud from the appendage in a vain attempt to clean herself up a bit. Truly, swamps were gross and dirty and smelly; the only reason Skadi ever ventured into this one was its abundance of prey, none quite expecting to see the long-furred tabby stalking through the tall grasses, hazel eyes mulishly resentful of the area she hunted freely in.

Each step announced her presence with a wet squelch and a slight sucking sound as she tugged the paws free, wading her way through the damp land in search of her day's first meal. Her stomach growled in approval, and Skadi shifted uncomfortably. Yesterday, her catches had been stolen by other loners or rogues--she never could really tell the difference at a glance--who had eaten them and laughed at her. They had been very rude, and had only laughed harder when Skadi informed them of this fact in a frank tone. However, they hadn't bothered her more after that, which she knew could easily have not been the case. Rogues tended to be bullies to cats they perceived as weaker than themselves, and Skadi had never really had any real battle training. She knew how to swing her paw and unsheathe her claws in the same beat, and that she needed to dodge more than block with her build, but that was the sum total of her combat knowledge and training.

Another risk of coming here was the wildcat groups that lived around the lake. Skadi had grown up hearing stories of what happened to cats who trespassed on wildcat territory, and it never ended well for the trespasser. She always tried her best to keep an eye out for their markers so she could skirt around them, but doubted she was wholly successful. Observant she may have been, but logic was not her strong suit, and logical locations for scent markers eluded her. Huffing out a sigh, Skadi leapt from a thick cluster of grass that was mercifully free of mud to another, then held her crouch when she landed, ears swiveling forward in interest.

There. She'd thought she'd heard something! A rustle sounded from nearby, the grasses twitching a short distance away. Gentle fingers of wind combed through her thick fur, bleeding off some of the summer heat it had absorbed during her time in the sun, and bringing her the scent of water vole. Lucky day, she was downwind of the little guy! Grinning at her fortune, Skadi crept closer pawstep by careful pawstep, rocking the appendages back and forth to pry them soundlessly from the mud. Drawing closer at a painstaking rate, the loner's hazel eyes had time to observe the trajectory of the vole's pawprints in the mud and make a best guess at the thing's current location since she couldn't directly see it. Careful, careful, a few steps more... Skadi edged closer, brows furrowed in concentration and tail deathly still behind her as she moved.

In a flurry of motion, she sprang forward and pounced, paws thudding onto a warm body freshly slicked by mud. That mud burst onto her tongue with a wash of coppery flavor as she dealt the deathblow to the back of the vole's neck, and proudly held the creature up by the fatal bite. Her paws carried her back to a decently sized thatch of solid ground, grasses flattening under her weight as she settled herself down to eat. Hel never ate where she hunted, preferring to wait patiently until she had gathered enough food to return home to the barn, but that had gotten Skadi robbed of her hard-earned prey, so she would eat here, and do something to placate her rumbling belly, so there.

It appeared to be a plump creature, well-fed and on a roll for its summer gorging to get it through the winter. Skadi herself thought that was a great idea; eating to one's heart's content and then being able to worry less about finding food during the winter. She adored the snow, but hated how scarce food became. With these disparate thoughts chasing each other around in her head, Skadi set into her vole, biting through the stomach to get to the delicious guts first. Purring to herself over the taste and how quickly she'd managed a catch, the she-cat continued to eat with great enthusiasm, and much delighted shifting, wiggling, and a bit of bouncing.