A wolf’s instinct to hunt could never be subdued.
Grey clouds vanquished the sun for good, plunging the forest into a dull, damp darkness as evening approached night. I hunted until the ghostly scent of fresh blood became real. There was a doe half a kilometer away, already slain, stinging my nose with its poisonous gore. That defeated the purpose of my search, didn’t it? I wanted to hunt, chase, kill, but the fact that I couldn’t was perhaps soothed by the fate which had been performed for me. Still, I was driven toward the animal, whether by curiosity or primal greed; I couldn’t entirely tell. My beast had taken control of me, and I wasn’t thinking, just operating off of natural instinct.
Through the trees, I stalked until the body appeared in the ferns, bright red viscera the only c
