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With a sly grin, the lion crouched, paws light against the hard ground below him. Rain fell from the heavens, like a million shattered pieces of diamond covering the landscape. Although the beauty of such raw nature would cause some to be rapt, it did no such thing to the mighty lion. In fact, it did nothing but make him grimace and wonder how he would ever get all the mud from his fur. As it was, his mane would be frizzier than a lioness’s tail after a long bath left to dry out in the sun. He hated rain.

A sudden splash caused him to lower his body down into the grass, his belly pressing against the cold mud. His eyes flashed over to watch as a deer plundered about through the marshy ground, its hooves sinking into each puddle it attempted to avoid. The creature had gotten separated from its herd when a huge bolt of lightning had come down, causing all the deer to scatter. And this was Ainesh’s target.

Whilst the doe tried to free her foot from the mud, mind completely distracted from her surroundings, the hunter crept forwards until he was only a breath’s distance from her. He could hear her frantic heartbeat, scent the warm blood that pumped around beneath her skin, taste the warm, musky odour that rose from her, a much more vivid taste in the rain.

The muscles in his back legs tensed as he prepared to leap, soaring through the air with a grace that could only be acquired through a lifetime of practice. But with the poor conditions and the rain that dragged him down and made his whole body heavy with drenched fur, he had miscalculated.

His back paws slid against the mud, pulling his weight out from under him, as he tried to find purchase on the moving floor. His front paws caught the doe’s back, claws digging into the soft flesh, as the rest of his body hit the ground.

Crack. Ainesh snarled in pain as the doe’s back hoof struck the side of his face. That was going to leave a mark. Claws digging into her skin, he clung on as though his life depended on it, biting down hard on whatever purchase his teeth could find whilst trying to scramble up to hold his weight on his back paws. The slick mud beneath him appeared to be nice worst enemy. Not only did his paws slide across it as though he were walking on ice, but it coated his beautiful fur in a disgusting layer that would take hours to get out.

The rain thundered down harder, pelting him as though shards of broken glass were hitting him. But he ignored it. The doe's attempts were weakening, he could smell blood seeping out of the many injuries he had inflicted upon her rump, a musky odor that not even the downward torrent could wash away. It filled his nose, splattering over his muzzle, giving him the energy to continue. With a final attempt, his paws caught on a patch of grass that gave him enough stability to leap onto the back of the frail creature.

And now she had no chance. Knees buckling from the weigh of the huge lion upon her, she let out a fearful shriek and bucked madly, her legs flailing against thin air. Fear rose from her, a smell so much more subtle than the blood, yet the effect was greater. The Da'lin, sensing his victory, wrapped his paws around her body, inflicting wounds with his unsheathed claws, and stretched out his head to meet her neck.

He bit down, hard, ivory tusks gliding through the thin surface of skin, and was rewarded with a satisfying crunch as her neck snapped. Blood gushed from her throat straight into his mouth as his eyes went wild. It tasted so good. The smell alone had sent him into a mad frenzy, but the taste... it was unbearable. He gulped down the precious red liquid, not allowing the rain to claim any of it, not even noticing that the doe's legs were still twitching feebly as her eyes slowly glazed over.

Swiping a long tongue over his jaws, the lion fought to regain control over his senses. His blood-stained muzzle trembled with effort as he tensed his muscles, not allowing himself even one bite of the tender, juicy meat. He could feel the heat radiating off the carcass, its pungent fragrance tempting him. He snarled. Why shouldn't he just gorge himself to the fill then and there? He was a lone lion, he deserved his well-earned meal. Ah, but if he waited the prize would be so much greater.

Besides, he disliked the idea of eating whilst in such a filthy state. Even the fearsome torrent of rain could not wash the thick spikes of mud that tangled his fur. Bending his great head, the male sunk his fangs into the scruff of the doe's neck. His tongue grazed against her flesh as he closed his eyes, almost succumbing to the blood lust. She tasted so good. Her scent was like fire, burning ferociously down the back of his throat. Her warm, musky taste like a million fireworks exploding within his mouth. He wanted nothing more than to gorge.

And yet her beauty was fading, the rain washed away the fresh blood, diluting it down to almost nothing. What a waste. He had to hurry. Both of his prizes would await him in the cave. His muscles set to work, his injured eye occasionally twitching from where she'd kicked him. Every step was tiresome. Heavy paws, thick, waterlogged fur, the extra weight of the carcass. All hindered.

But then again, he was a fighter.