Descending on a Feast
Over the rustling of the grasslands and the whisper of the winds, the cries sounded. Tinny and weak, the yips and yowls converged upon one another, building into cacophonous orchestras as each little being rummaged through the tall stalks, the scent hot in their nostrils, crying out to all who could hear. Though they were many, there was no need to keep this to oneself, or even one's clan. Today's was a find greater than any they had ever known, and tonight would be a feast to match.
Around the mountain of flesh, hyenids poured in from all sides. Their puny, dirty-hided frames leaped for joy as their gazes tumbled up and down hills of fur and still-fresh meat, a single hunk torn from the gargantuan gazelle that had once rocked their world with every thunderous bound. Hunting knives and spears once reserved for insects were held skywards as the gathered clans surged forth upon the feast, hundreds upon hundreds of the speck-sized beings rolling over their meal in a darkened, spotty wave. No longer would they be forced to subsist on the grotesque creatures that shared their puny scale! This kill was more than they could ever eat, enough to live and breed upon for nearly a full week before it spoiled! With full bellies they would be strong again, hunters again!
A massive quake sent the first dozens tumbling in a shrieking avalanche, mouths still full of the fur and meat they had so eagerly beached themselves upon. The puny tribals yelped and cowered as a second impact sent the mound of flesh jiggling, and then a third! The scent of rotting flesh grew sour in their snouts, the blood caking the dusty fur of those who had already indulged now a terrifying harbinger of the approaching doom.
Over the stalks of grass that towered so high, the behemoth lumbered forth. Each paw bashed the earth with unrelenting force, invisible behind the quivering plants. Waves of tawny fur rippled with the fattened flesh beneath, coating the wide pillars of calves and thighs in wobbling motions as mesmerizing as they were frightening. Limp, heavy masculinity bounced free in the breeze high above, the musky odor wafting from the gargantuan sack and softened shaft already waging war with the newly-rotting meat far below. Sounds of wet gurgles rumbled from a flabby, wide torso, aftershocks that jiggled with each mighty step. Above it all, a pair of golden eyes stared downwards, the heavyset feline's frame blocking out the sun as the hyenid clans whimpered the name of their demise.
Lion.
A deep yawn erupted from Varn's jaws, his quenched throat expelling a humid wind into the evening air. A clawed hand reached down to scratch the underside of his plump gut, easing its grumbling and growling. He'd only had a bite before sampling the watering hole, and it was clearly unhappy he'd waited this long to have his dinner, water or no.
The behemoth crouched low, his wide rear end taking a seat as he glanced over his kill. His gaze missed the puny nibbles that had been stripped from a choice leg...but not the nibblers themselves. With a fanged, swelling grin, the lion reached towards the hunk of fur and meat, claws rending it from the carcass with dozens of speck-sized scavengers still clinging for dear life upon it. His malehood stirred far below as he raised the mouthful and its helpless stragglers to his lips, his smile swallowing their vision before his throat did the same to them.
He would feast well tonight.