NOVEL NEXT Chapter 42: Laser-focus
Following the trail wasn’t as easy as Dominic had hoped – he wasn’t a blood-hound after all. Still, despite a few missteps, he found his prey.
The little family were rooting around in the ground, making grunting noises every so often. Two parents with their little brood of five youngsters. Slightly bigger than the ones he had encountered before entering the dungeon, these warthogs weren’t anywhere near the size of the guardian.
Let’s hope that this will be more of a success than either of those times, Dominic said to himself, doing the mental equivalent of crossing his fingers. No, he hadn’t actually died to the warthog Guardian, but he’d come damn close to it. As for his previous encounter with a warthog family, he’d rather forget that.
He’d grown a lot since then, in all senses of the word. On the one hand, he wasn’t going to be able to hide as well – his new height made it more difficult to do so in all but the longest savannah grass. On the other, he was a lot faster and could keep going for longer.
I can take over, if you’re worried you’ll miss again, suggested Leo, sounding rather eager. Dominic was about to refuse as an automatic reaction, but then hesitated. Why shouldn’t Leo get to have a bit of fun? Assuming it was possible for him to pass over the reins. Or whatever you call it when you’re controlling a lion body, not a horse.
Doing his best to keep his mental argument from being ‘heard’ by his co-passenger, he debated the issue. I’ve had all the ‘fun’ – Leo’s been trapped as an onlooker, was an argument for. What if I can’t take back control afterwards? was an argument against. But why would Leo try to keep control – he’s already accepted me as the ‘better protector’. That was a good point. What if he felt like he was the better protector because I had conceded the hunt to him? That was also a good point….
If I gave control over to you – not saying I will, or if it’s even possible – then would you keep it? This question was directed straight at Leo. Perhaps it was a little blunt to ask him outright, but Dominic felt like it might be a good strategy: Leo had been blunt enough with him in his own way.
No, the lion responded. I have accepted you as the dominant party in our coalition. If I wish to challenge you on that, I will do so formally. I shall not try to sneak it away from you like a scavenger would steal my prey.
Alright then, Dominic decided, making up his mind. Perhaps he’d agreed a bit easily, but honestly he was interested to see a lion hunt from the front seat – a proper one. Not his own human-turned-lion hunts. And he was a bit curious to see how Leo handled his new and improved body – would he struggle the way Dominic had?
Plus, while he definitely wanted to try out Lightning Discharge, he doubted he’d get a moment in this fight: he reckoned that the longest bit would be the chase. Especially with his new damage rating for natural weaponry, now he got his claws or teeth into one of these wild pigs, he figured that it would be all over for them.
Figuring out how to actually pass over control was another question. Not really understanding how his mind was different from his body in the first place made it a difficult conundrum. He’d gained a sense of the limits of his mind from the addition of Leo, but how he could…switch places? That was less clear.
It took a little bit of mental pushing and shoving, neither of them really knowing what they were doing. Then, like they were two bubbles or balloons which suddenly squeezed past each other, Dominic found himself in a very different position.
He could still see out of his eyes, hear with his ears, heck, all of his senses were still connected. But suddenly…he couldn’t do anything. His head turned; he hadn’t turned it. His ears flicked around to catch a sound, but he wasn’t the one who’d flicked them. His body crouched, yet he hadn’t sent the command.
Obviously, he knew what was happening – somehow they had succeeded in their attempt and now it was Dominic who was the passenger in the body that Leo was driving. It was still very weird, though. As his head turned without his direction and his body went into motion, he felt like he should be motion sick.
He wasn’t – being motion sick was a physical reaction, not a mental one – but he still felt like this whole situation should provoke it. A sudden sense of sympathy rose in him at the thought that Leo had had to deal with this for the past however many days – and the body in question had been his to start with!
At the same time, he found he was able to read Leo’s mind a lot more easily. Like all his bodily sensations were first being passed through Leo before coming to Dominic.
I guess this is why Leo seems to know what I’m thinking a lot more than I know what is in his mind. It was certainly interesting to see more of the lion’s mind. Leo was hyper-focused, his eyes intent on the family ahead of him, but his senses also primed to detect any attack that might hit him from the back or sides.
The lion wasn’t considering anything more than the hunt ahead of him. He wasn’t considering failure, or even success. He wasn’t comparing this hunt to others with warthogs or anything else. He wasn’t imagining what the warthog’s flesh would taste like.
Instead, every iota of his focus was on the two adult warthogs, watching their reactions. It was on stealth, keeping quiet as he padded through the grass one silent step at a time. His body was hunched low, his head dipped. The moment one of the warthogs was alerted, Dominic knew that Leo would leap into a run, but for now, he stalked closer, and closer, narrowing the gap.
It was a very different experience than Dominic had had. His own attempts to focus were put to shame, frankly. Even in the middle of a fight for his life, he’d notice random things, or inane thoughts would come to his mind. This laser-like focus was something he hadn’t even achieved in the corridors with traps where every foot-step could have led to his downfall. Literally.
After a time, Dominic realised that his fascination with Leo’s hunting prowess had knocked any fears or worries out of his mind. The difference between a creature who’s been hunting since he could keep up with the pride and me, an accidental interloper in his body…. Settling back, as if making himself comfortable in a nice armchair, Dominic wished he had some popcorn to crunch as he watched the action unfold.
*****
Leo was aware of the butterfly-like attention of the Intruder, but did not let it distract him.
The warthogs were unaware of the presence of the predator only a few body-lengths away.
Not close enough. Closer.
Step, step, step, freeze. The female had raised her head.
Head lowered. The male relaxed. The young relaxed. Step, step, step.
Leo crept closer and closer, at some points only moving a few paces, at others covering a body length in a few seconds.
Close enough.
Shifting into a pounce, Leo was startled when he sailed over the warthog’s head, his carefully calculated leap suddenly far too powerful.
No matter.
Whirling, he charged from a standstill, catching the other adult unaware: the fraction of time it had taken him to react was not enough for her to start to run.
His teeth clamped down on her body and hot, delicious blood burst into his mouth. Ah, it’s been too long! The thought was distracting. Too distracting. As was the mess of squiggles which appeared in front of his vision. The moments it took Leo to wonder why the squiggles were suddenly lacking all meaning, and to banish them from his vision meant it was too late to continue the chase.
Leo had instinctively slowed down, and now the male warthog had taken off with its tail in the air. Its young had also scattered, but Leo would not attempt to hunt them down unless he were very hungry anyway: they were too much trouble for the couple of mouthfuls of meat on them.
A single warthog was good enough for now.
Slumping to the grass, he started happily chewing meat off the carcass.
Uh, you know you can just Consume its body, right? It deals with hunger and thirst just as well as eating the body does. The annoying voice of the Intruder came in.
Not Intruder any more, I suppose, Leo mused. We are part of the same coalition so…brother? Yes, brother. Decided, he returned to digging his teeth into the flesh of the pig and tearing it away in chunks.
Good to hear it, his brother sounded…amused. That was what he called it. But don’t you want to move on quickly? It’s quicker to absorb the corpse and continue, than eat it straight.
It was true, Leo realised. At the same time, he also realised that he didn’t want to do that at all. The knowledge that he was making a choice, a conscious choice, was a little startling. So was the next thought that came to mind.
I’ve missed this, he realised with surprise – longing was not something he’d ever felt before.
He’d felt bereft when he had been turned out of his birth pride as a young male. When his sire had turned from a sometimes grumpy but always protective influence to a mass of threatening teeth and claws. When his mother and his aunts who had been the source of food, first milk and then meat, and comfort, a lick when he was hurt, suddenly started snarling and growling at him. Had even threatened to attack him when he tried to eat from the communal carcass. And then when his sire had been driven out and replaced by a coalition of males who drove Leo out for good.
Yet he hadn’t longed for them. Something inside him knew it had been time to leave. Time to find his own pride, one where he could sire many of his own cubs. One which he would only have to leave if another, stronger, male came along.
But now, thanks to his contact with the hairless monkey, who had somehow become his brother, he realised that he could feel all sorts of different things. Amusement. Disgruntlement. Eagerness. Anticipation. Longing. Probably more besides.
It was too much, Leo decided. That was another feeling from the hairless monkey: overwhelmed. The lion abruptly felt himself longing for a simpler time, but even that longing proved that it wasn’t a simpler time.
Instead, he focussed on the carcass in front of him. It would not take long to consume the female warthog, nor to lick himself clean. Longer than what his brother was suggesting, yes, yet he found himself not activating the more efficient method. Somehow he felt like he needed to tear the meat off the warthog carcass, then clean his fur with his tongue as he always had to help soothe his suddenly tumultuous world.