Citizen 525 Leo

The dirt beneath his feet was soft and cool as his massive paws sunk into the soil. The early autumn wind was a welcome thing as the heat bore down. Leonidas didn't care to think about how exactly it was warm if the sun didn't reach down to the Dome. Those sorts of thoughts were for the intellectuals, not brutes.

Young as he was, Leo was already towering over many of his peers. He was a good head taller that both his parents, and his odd scaling made him especially imposing. His father had always equated the appearance to that of a lion, although he'd only ever seen the beasts in story books and legends of the surface. Massive cats made of pure muscle with fur like sand. Sounded impressive. He supposed he didn't mind being likened to one.

Leo shook his head, grumbling as he noticed his thoughts had wandered off his mission. He lowered his nose to the ground, sniffing at the deer path he strode along through the wood. The acrid scent of the bull elk hit his sinuses as her hung his mouth open to taste the air. He closed his eyes, focusing on the scent. He'd been following the large white bull for three days now. Everytime he got close enough, the stag was able to hear him as he lumbered, his immense size shattering his element of surprise. He supposed a beast of that unique appearance had to be good at evading predators if it had lived long enough to be that old. The fact frustrated him though, and he'd raked his claws through plenty of tree trunks in his frustration. Leo had never been much of a hunter. He was too big, and lacked endurance. His father said that he was too big to work for long, and he was inclined to agree. Large scale manual labor was a fitting enough occupation for a time, but his unwieldy body started to ache before long, and his head started to swim. After a bit, he ended up fatigued and seeing double. However, they needed this. He needed this. Leo needed to prove that he could do this. He could be more than the lazy brute they thought he was.

Now back on the scent of the lone stag, he pressed onward, shoving trees and foliage aside with his large body as best he could. The trees yielded to him, and he heard the birds chitter and flee from his stride. Eventually, his ears pricked to the sound of hooves through the brush, and he slowed. Dropping his body lower to the ground and pulling his limbs in, he watched through the trees for the stark white pelt of his quarry. His golden eyes scanned the treeline. Even his breathing was quieted as he held it with uncertainty. He was tired of stalking this damn thing.

A glint of white. His breath caught. He could almost taste the venison on his tongue. He licked his lips. Stay still… wait… be patient. He repeated the mantra in his head, unblinkingly staring as the animal approached with ignorance to the immense predator stalking from the brush. He stared without blinking until his eyes stung, worried if he blinked, he'd lose the stag.

Finally, the animal got close enough, and he sprang. Galloping out of the treeline with a growl, he barreled towards the stag, who bellowed in surprise and took of into the brush. Leo followed hot on his tail, heavy footfalls thundering through the woods as he pursued.

The stag zig zagged through the trees, but shouldering past the trees made it easy enough to keep up. His lungs burned and his paws were sore, but the adrenaline built like a rapid before a waterfall. It sped and beat to the rhythm of his pounding heart, a grin spreading across his maw. The hunt filled him with a primal hunger, one that was matched only by brawls in forgotten alleyways or underground arenas he frequented these days. It was in those arenas that Leonidas actually found something he could do. It didn't matter if he got tired or sore- for one hit from a massive paw took out most any opponent. Now, he felt that adrenaline surge, and he forgot any pain or exhaustion he once knew.

Only animals remained, the hunter and the hunted.

Finally within reach, he pounced, his massive body slamming down beside the stag as he swung paw down. The sheer power behind the swipe brought stag to the ground, but it didn't kill it. He narrowly dodged sharp antlers before swinging his head around to clamp onto the back of the stag's neck with sharp teeth. A snap, and it was over.

He'd done it. He'd slain his quarry. Now he could go home and the others would see him as a competent and normal rex.

Then he heard it. A roar. A bear's roar.

Swinging around, he looked eye to eye with the massive sow, her eyes fixed firmly on his kill before those animalistic eyes flicked up to his own. She was about the same size as some of the rexes he'd fought before, but long, curved claws and muscle to back them meant a much larger threat to the young rex.

He eyed her a moment, and then stood back on his haunches. A sow wouldn't usually be willing to challenge a rex, even in fall when they were bulking up. He slammed his clublike tail against the ground, and let out an earsplitting roar.

Animal to animal, she understood what he meant, and bellowed back, backing up slowly. The adrenaline pounded in his ears like a migraine, bright yellow magic pouring out of his mouth as he snarled again, letting another roar.

It felt good… to be the most powerful thing around. He considered that as he slung the stag over his shoulders, beginning the trek home.

It would be years before he felt that surge of strength again. When it came, however, he would say nothing once more. Only roar like the beast they all saw him as. It would feel good, to know you were the most powerful thing around.

~ LynxFang