Blood. I can feel their blood. Hear their hearts. Smell their fear.
First attack in the night was bad, they were too strong said master. Pups were able to break through but their flames not able to cook our meal. Strong, they faced us, killed my kin, drove us back. They would pay, said master. Especially the Piglet, too bold.
More came out, out from the flames. Man and child, town and wild. They talked, they fought, they cried, they left. Old Crow was scorched and bleeding, Fox scratched from the long sticks. They bundled the wild ones onto the foals, set off on the path, through snow, through night.
Master said leave them, wait. Watch. Watch blood slowly cool, fear slowly build.
Something warm saves them from the snow. The simple one, barn bound, cries out weakly so we show him what strength is. AWWWWWOOOOOOO!
They rest and eat and safe. Quiet now. And then a ripple, something strange. Something forgotten, something strong. Yes, that is what we seek. Why did it wake?
With the dawn comes more pups. In the woods and along the trail and new kin ready to run. Here they come now, Fox up front, riding fast – too fast for some kin! We take a bite of foals, slow some down, along the path to which there is one end.
Ending time now, trap is sprung, we have hunted many times in these woods. Pups with darts along the front, pups with sticks along the side, kin from behind but not enough. Fools spread out, Piglet and Crow in the snow, Fox quickly surrounded, Boar the butcher on the path.
Master and I watch, wait for blood.
Kin and pup alike not strong enough, time now I say. Master agrees, we howl and enter. Blood, hearts, fear all around. Death is here.
Master and Piglet, me and Old Crow. Around we circle. Master sticks piglet and he squeals with rage, pulls IT out. Why? Why? Why? No no no! I leap and knock him, he drops IT, they wrestle. Master has IT now – steady now master! Take care!
Hot pain – a bite from Crow! All attention now, Master fine but Fox and worse Boar are closer. Crow steady behind the metal wall, but one slip is all it takes…
Now. Now! Throat. Teeth. Blood – sweet blood. Spilling and falling and tangled in the snow. Old Crow gurgles, dinner soon.
Victory this day, just as Master said.
Then – Boar! On me, nowhere to – pain again! Slowing. Master?? Where?
Boar again! NO!!