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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I stand alone on the precipice of life, watching the Herd. It is me the judge and executioner, the one who chokes out the weeds, the reaper of the weak, the unworthy. These are the unknowing builders of my soul, the appetizers before the feast. Now let's step into the true primal hunt (setting) Full moon darkened by a mist, an old wood forest, deep, enclosing always silent the type of night you can taste in your mouth, almost feel it roll across the skin. That's when I sit back on my haunches, waiting for the scent to hit me, awakening every nerve. I leap into motion crisscrossing the aroma, moving ever closer to destiny, the symphony of my life. As a silhouette comes into sight I pause, this is a time to cherish, let's enjoy this one. I move a little up wind, to let the prey catch my scent. I can see when it hits her, she stiffens and bolts. Now the fun begins. (chase) through a small glen, into brush, under a dead tree every second I draw closer, around a rock down a deer trail almost within reach, through a small stream on the far bank I leap, pinning her to the ground. I rake my claws across her belly dumping her intestines then I get off her. Its amusing, watching her try to get up. I watch for the sign of when she gives up, starts to repent then I begin, ripping a chunk of meat from her thigh, gnawing her arm off at the elbow, tearing more flesh from her chest, back to watching, chewing on the arm like a drumstick, sucking in her soul so slowly, make her suffer for hours, watching the blood pool up on the ground. (Kill) My heart beats once and in that second I grow soft and bite out her throat.
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