Feb. Wk. 1 Art Challenge - Chases!

[Ubique]

this challenge is open to any typical form of art or expression, including 2D, 3D, poetry and short stories.

is it tag? is it a desperate escape from a too-demanding, too-horny master or mistress? is it a flight for your life from a monstrous creature? or is it a kitteh gurl chasin' her tail in the inn?? chases! run, forest, run!

[Ehlanna]

A bit late, but ...

[Ubique]

hey i held out til you did! i thought we saw someone in the ooc channel saying they wanted this theme last week?? where are the entries!!

well here's mine =)

[Ehlanna]

I like it!

[mozenwrathe]

*Within the village of Rtythiurfo, there was a ritual done every year during the spring and the autumn. One where they gathered all the criminals from the trio of villages and set them loose in the deep forest. Of course, they would have naught else but the clothes on their backs and a set of brass knuckles. The "game" is for them to find their way from Rtythiurfo all the way to Hurema'Inca. If they can do such without being caught, then they are free to go on with their lives. The catch, however, is that they are being hunted. Every year it is different. One year, they were stalked by catgirls. None of the men were found again. The female criminals ran back to the village screaming in abject terror for some reason or another. At least those that turned up were.*

Minor Instances Never Explained (M.I.N.E.)
by Vipunen Tuonela

have I never been hunted before
in such amounts by this sort of stalker
a minor thing done in a village none cares for
and now am I the sport for another's laughter
yet will I know the fear of the tracked
my breath coming out louder than desired
even as this bold heart of mine within my chest
threatens to burst forth from my flesh
for every step through this sodden forest
has been rife with risk and possible ruin

normally am I the one looking for prey
taking advantage of my terrain
using even the winter's breath of chaos
to bring whatever I am tracking down
into range of my longbow or longknife
but now am I the one leaving the trail
despite the best am I able to do this day
creating almost a tell tale path
which any forester worth their weight in salts
could follow right to where I stand

there now do I spy a river far and vast
yet behind me do I hear the sound of hooves
knowing nothing of who has found me
or perhaps what as we whom are the prey
were told naught word or whisper of
how well our pursuers know us or land around
so despite all my instinct screaming trap
do I make a dash for the water's edge
knowing will I be in the open for a time
but just as I hear voices clear screaming out
do I hurl myself into the water in a dive
finding myself surrounded by the cold
and losing myself in the swift current

do I feel things sinking swiftly past me
arrows and roughly carved spears diving
striking not I but something deeper underneath
causing what must be a freshwater shark
to start rising from the depths like dawn
as stain do I barely see coming upwards
so rather than stay in waters now deadly
must I swim to shore and scramble out
unwilling to face the wrath of whatever
those trying to trap me have awoken
knowing full well what awaits me on land
could be no better and no worse than the river
except am I far less likely to be drowned
while running upon heavy sands or rich soil

do I find myself gasping for breath
rolling out of the waters even as jaws large
snap at my ankles thrice before descending again
teeth will I never forget gnashing in fury
dismayed I shall not become their early meal
my boot lashes out once at the maw impotently
knowing I will not reach it to cause it pain
but pride not allowing me to let it go
without at least showing it some vital rage

but as I find myself to my feet in a stance
does the air itself feel far too warm now
as my person has been surrounded with ease
outmaneuvered while in the water it seems
for have I been driven into this corral smartly
and is the thought so fitting now as the rope
lashes around me more than thrice over smartly
my captors being none other than centaurs
five females who have caught up to two others
both of them bleeding and beaten and bound
obviously not as fortunate as I had been this day
but now all my luck was at an end apparently
with grins from the females almost feral