[ti]Private[/ti]the story of the beast with the four dirty paws Oct 15, 2019 4:18:04 GMT
Post by Phoenix on Oct 15, 2019 4:18:04 GMT
The young, gangly hound held a deadpan expression on her face as she stood so still she barely blinked. Docked tail stuck out from her rump in a rigid, hard line as one of her front paws lifted. Long, slender snout extended forward and created a streamline from nose to tail tip. Mocha brown eyes stared forward in a hard focus, locked onto the feathered creatures that strolled across the beach, picking snacks out of the sand.
Her body quivered with her intensity, holding back until the right moment came, and when it did, she shot off like a bullet from a rifle. She broke into a full on gallop towards the flock of gulls, barreling into them and bowling a few over as the rest flapped their wings frantically to flee. Phoenix laid her focus on one in particular, one that she managed to bowl over and was struggling to scramble to its feet and fly off like the rest.
In seconds her mouth was around its neck, with the crackling of brittle bird bones followed by the slow seep of blood onto her lips. She shook her head viciously, the bird flopping as it smacked against the sides of her neck, all the while screeching. Satisfied that the bird was now limp, though loud, she dropped it onto the sand.
A loud laugh resonated from her belly as it continued to carry on, each cry getting quieter. "Oh poor birdy, what's tha matta huh?" She craned her head down to get a closer look at it, bringing her eyes close to its own, "Ya know you're gonna die, don'tcha?" A grating cackle followed her taunting words, memories of the angry goose that attacked her once very clear in her mind. God, I fucking hate birds.
If this all wasn't fun enough, she began to pluck its feathers out one by one. Using her front paws to hold the injured bird down she grabbed a large feather between her teeth and yanked it out in the most painfully slow fashion. Each time the bird protested, flapping its wings in vain and squawking, she would press down even harder and soon there was a very clear imprint of the seagull in the sand.
This continued on until the bird was looking quite bald and she could barely stifle her laughter long enough to continue pulling its feathers out. However, a voice interrupted her diligent work and caused her to look up with her large ears perked forward, searching around her for where the voice came from.