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Post by vermilition on Mar 19, 2006 11:01:07 GMT -5
Heres another piece of my work strit out of the examiners hands, this is from a prelim exam you see...
The Final Challenge
Larkin breezed through the autumn trees. His feet cutting through the sea of red, brown and auburn that was the forest floor. In his true form he was a master of nature able to out do his old human form. Slipping under a branch he dived into a bush. Something was wrong. A scent. Human. ‘A chance for a bit of sport’ thought Larkin His yellow eyes flaring, wild as a bonfire. The possibilities. The chases. The hunt.
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Post by vermilition on Mar 19, 2006 11:59:23 GMT -5
Finding the scent next to a river along with corresponding tracks. They were heavy and uncompromised. This humanoid was trying to get attention. He would get some. There were a second and a third set of tracks next to the humans tracks. Larkin noticed that they were both dog tracks. “He is out hunting” Larkin mumbled, his voice as deep and feral than ever. He hated hunters, especially on his patch this was Larkin’s patch not ugly Joe’s hunting ground. Snapping off to the left, he followed the trail. Deeper and deeper into the forest. He sensed eyes watching him. It was normal for a game of cat and mouse to feel like this. Especially when the mouse could bite back. Larkin shut those kinds of thoughts into the back of his mind. He knew what paranoia could do to a hunter. When he was his pitiful human self Larkin had been a professor of psychology at a university. Until his re-birth. As a professor he was good, really good. He knew what you were thinking when he shook your hand. Some said he was a genius, others said he was a freak. That ticked him off big time. The trail continued and so did the thoughts. It happened like this, Larkin would think, he would plot. He would picture every incision into the victim’s body. He would know where every bite would land before he even laid eyes on his victim. This prey was large, he knew that, the footprints spoke of a humanoid at least six foot four inches and probably close to 300 pounds. Light shining in between the tree trunks, Larkin sped on.
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Post by vermilition on Mar 19, 2006 11:59:45 GMT -5
On his right Larkin heard a dog’s yap. They weren’t big but size wasn’t all that counted in a fight. ‘That’s my first target’ thought Larkin. Sprinting on he heard the dogs being let loose. Game on. Running. Flying. Dodging, he was doing it all. Finally the dogs were close enough to Larkin yet far enough from there master for Larkin to act. Turning 180 degrees he faced the mutts. “ Scum” he growled. Teeth flaring he ran and lunged at the lead dog. This was where the wolf side of Larkin flourished like a flower in spring, only this was far bloodier. Snapping the neck of the dog with his hands, Larkin bit into the stomach of the mutt. Blood. Lots of it. Washing over him in a crimson tide. Enough. He turned to face the second dog. Growling, ears back, tail stiff and shoulder blades raised. His eyes met the dogs. The challenge issued. Lunging forward they collided. A head on no rules scrap ensued, each fighter fighting for his life. Bites scratches, cuts and wounds. The dog managed to bite Larkin’s leg. Roaring with anger Larkin went for the kill. The dog realised too late that he had left his neck wide open. Crimson liquid on his muzzle, Larkin walked on. He had made a display of the dogs. He walked of to find a bush to hide in as his breathing regulated. As if on queue the humanoid walked in on the scene. “Ruddy dogs” he exclaimed. Cursing to the sky he exposed himself to Larkin’s eyes.
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Post by vermilition on Mar 19, 2006 12:00:10 GMT -5
Around about six foot four and built like a mountain he was big, really big . His bald head was a maze of scars. A chunk missing from his chin and a slit taken from his ear. This guy looked the business. He had a shotgun slung on his shoulder that swung as he drank deeply from his water bottle. Shafts of light bouncing off of his head. ‘Make your move now!’ thought Larkin. Heart racing, he took to impulse and made a move. Bounding out of his bush, snarling, snapping and slashing he was mad, really mad. The human was quick for his size and had pulled a club out from his back pack on the ground in front of him. He was ready. Still running Larkin pounced strait into the man. Hitting him hard they both hit the ground with a bang. On top of the victim Larkin reacted fastest and began slashing. Claws digging deep into muscle, he was cut short. The human was fighting back! Problem. As a predator Larkin was used to a quick kill. A slash here a dead body there, hunt over. A full fight was not his idea of a hunt. The man twisted and rolled and tried to throw the werewolf off of him. No luck, Larkin wasn’t used to long brawls but it didn’t mean he couldn’t fight. A blow to the jaw and the human yelled in pain. He contorted and that gave Larkin the time to head but the man. He began bleeding. Not a lot but just enough The human placed a fist into Larkin’s barrel chest. Winded he fought on. Striking wildly he caught the hunters nose. It tore open, blood everywhere, the hunter stated yelling. Trying to stop the bleeding he did the one thing he shouldn’t have. Seeing the open neck Larkin lunged forward letting his jaws fly open, he bit deep on contact. Straight through an artery, there was a major blood flow. The humans mighty hands started to hammer into Larkin’s fur coated back. Connecting again and again the human’s strikes got weaker and weaker until they were no more than a pat on the back.
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Post by vermilition on Mar 19, 2006 12:00:28 GMT -5
A rib broken, totally winded and a cut into his leg Larkin released his grip on the man’s neck and demounted the man’s bloated corpse. His muzzle covered in crimson, Larkin tilted his head back and let loose a howl. Long and hard he played his tune to the set of the orange autumn sun, letting the world know his challenge.
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Post by vermilition on Mar 19, 2006 12:02:04 GMT -5
Anyone who has read this in realife will notice a few changes but i thought i sounded better this way. thanks for reading!!!
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