Wil snapped his leg about in completion of his motion. The sole of his shoe sunk into the beast's fur, its fatty hide, then made contact with bone, resulting in a nearly inaudible crunch. It was a sound that Wil was all too familiar with. A sound he enjoyed. He continued to apply force, twisting against the resisting mass. His own force and momentum against that of his adversary. His was greater. It's own force overcome, the jackalope was unable to resist as it was kicked back and sent flying back with a pained squeak, barreling across the ground.
As soon as Wil was back on the ground, he made a dash for the tree and retrieved his makeshift weapon as the animal picked itself up the ground, squeaking angrily. If it had been a person, he would've charged in right then to finish it off before it could collect itself, but animals were different than people. An injured human would normally try to remove themselves from a dangerous situation, where a wounded animal would tend to attack to protect itself with reckless abandon.
He held up his weapon in front of himself as the jackalope refocused its attention on him. Its sides expanded and shrunk in quick, stuttering motions. It seemed he had caused it a serious wound. It was likely considering whether to fight or flee. A part of him hoped it was the latter. He'd rather not have to kill animals. And yet, another part didn't want this to end. His heart pounded in his chest and his entire body felt hot and tense. Inwardly he craved this life or death conflict.The jackalope suddenly stood up on its hind legs and began to approach him in large, steady hops. Wil kept a guarding stance. What was it doing? Was it standing up like a bear, trying to appear larger to frighten him off? He felt that any other rabbit would have long fled by now. Just what was this creature really?
The creature suddenly propelled itself at him once more, but instead of targeting Wil with it's antlers, a long furry leg extended out before its body. A kick? His surprise slowed down his reaction time, and he realized it was to late to dodge the attack. He gripped his weapon with both hands and braced himself.
The moment he felt the impact, Wil knew his weapon wouldn't hold. He heard the snap of wood and the next thing he knew, his vision was spiraling as the breath was knocked out of him. He returned to the ground with a thud. As his blurred vision recovered, the blue sky filled his sight. His ears were ringing from the impact of his body bouncing across the ground. He choked on his own breaths as he tried to fill his lungs with air, groaning as he painfully lifted himself from the ground. His breaths were painful, but nothing seemed to be broken, although he might develop a bruise later.
The jackalope was standing still, remaining on its hind legs, its front paws tucked in front of its chest. It stood there, unmoving, its red eyes fixated on him while its nose twitched repeatedly as it sniffed the air. It seemed to be studying him once again. They had both exchanged blows now, perhaps it was attempting to size him up.
Those legs, though! Covered by fur, they were deceptively powerful. Wil recalled seeing people being kicked by kangaroos, and he imagined the animal's legs possessed similar strength.
The jackalope suddenly began to squeak and chatter at him in various tones and pitches. Wil remained motionless. Was it trying to scare him off? All the squeaking was hardly frightening or threatening.
The animal grew quiet for several moments, then suddenly let fly a high kick into the air, pivoting its body to the side. It remained motionless for several moments, its foot suspended in the air, then returned it to the ground. It chirped lightly for a brief moment, then let loose another kick in another direction. Its gaze was locked onto his own.
Wil continued to watch the animal carefully. Perhaps if he was more familiar with rabbits he'd have some clue as to the behavior of this creature. He would rather let the animal flee than have to kill it.
The jackalope stopped and stared at him, its whiskers twitching in the light wind, then suddenly flopped onto its side, exposing its belly. It continued to stare at him as it did so.
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Wil scratched his head. He understood that showing the belly for many creatures was a display of playfulness or trust, particularly among domesticated animals, but as far as he knew, this was a wild animal. Not only that, but wasn't this thing mythical as well? Was it really safe to think of it as a rabbit? It rolled back and forth in the grass while he watched it carefully. The animal that had just attacked him was now goofing off and playing around seemingly without a care. Occasionally it would stop and look him in the eye as if it was waiting for something, then it would resume its frolicking.
He understood that there were many animals who liked to play with their prey or food. With that said though, he had no idea whether the animal was an herbivore or carnivore. Most herbivores would flee rather than engage in a fight. Nevertheless, if it wasn't going to attack, perhaps he could leave. He took a single step back.
The jackalope rose to its feet and stared him in the eye. He stopped. Was it going to attack again?
The jackalope tilted its head, chirping quietly, then hopped a short distance away before picking up a piece of Wil's branch in its mouth and bouncing back. As it neared him, it slowed its steps, approaching slowly. Mere steps away, it dropped the fragment before him, then hopped back several steps.
What was going on? This creature had just attacked him but was now behaving curiously. Perhaps it was a species that followed a hierarchy, and with his counterattack, he had somehow displayed dominance. He knew that it was dangerous to assume anything about a wild animal, especially one he knew nothing about, but at least if the jackalope was no longer hostile, perhaps he could be on his way.
Being careful not to let the animal out of his sight, he gazed across the plains. He hadn't been able to see the mountains as he had wandered through the night, but given how their size had grown it appeared that he was making good progress.
Wil turned toward the mountains, craning his head back at the jackalope to ensure that it wasn't going to charge him as soon as he turned his back. "Well, see ya later."
The large rabbit simply stood there and watched, its expressionless animal face revealing nothing of its intentions.
Well, that turned out for the better. He had taken several basic wilderness courses as required by the Organization, but as long as there were alternate sources of nutrition, he preferred not to hunt animals. He had no ill will for animals, in fact, he could say he was particularly fond of them. That being said, humans were another matter entirely.
Grass rustled behind him. He swiveled around in a combat-ready defensive stance, not that combat stances were particularly effective against animals. It was an action more out of habit, practiced and drilled into him through several years of training.
The jackalope was standing still several steps behind, looking up at him with its round, red eyes. Wil stared back at it, waiting for it to make another move, and yet, it just stood there watching him. Was it waiting to attack him from behind?
He resumed walking, then immediately spun around to see the animal stop in its tracks. He sighed. He was sure that the animal likely could run faster than he, so any attempt to flee was likely futile. He was unsure whether he should try to chase it off. On one hand, it could outrun him, then resume its stalking behavior as soon as he turned his back. On the other, trying to chase it off may cause it to become actively hostile again. Its behavior was especially curious considering it coming from a wild animal, but postulating about it or trying to make sense of it all was proving to be time ill spent as he was nothing of an expert on the subject.
He ignored the stalker and continued on his way, carefully listening to the sounds behind as he went. If it wasn't going to attack him, he didn't see any reason to get rid of it, although if it tried anything he would have to reluctantly finish it off.