| Anthro / Traditional Media / Drawings | ©2012-2013 =Ben-G-Geldenhuys |


On Second Thought The night air was hushed, for the surrounding wildlife that inhabited this forest instinctively feared him. Samson crouched naked in a shallow stream of cool water, scrubbing the blood off his body with his bare hands and pondering the last seventy-two hours of events that had brought him there.
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Cigarette smoke swirled out of the opening door, serving as a rancid teaser of what awaited inside: the cloying smoke was joined by the odor of stale beer and various other noxious alcohols and the salty musk of unwashed humans and the gestalt of perfumes and colognes of those who did have a sense of hygiene. The dim lighting at least made the


Apex Predator The deer had not a chance against its killer. One minute, the old buck was munching languidly on summer grass so lush that its juices dribbled out of his mouth as he ate. The sun's rays beamed down through the treetops, warming the forest floor to the perfect temperature--it was a perfect day. Until a twig behind him snapped. From downwind emerged a dark mass of fury and teeth and before the buck could even take flight, its legs buckled under the impact of almost two hundred pounds brought to bear onto his back. Dark hands grasped his muzzle and an antler. And with a twist, the old male just past the zenith of his life reached its inevitable
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