The rabbit dreams about the wolf eating it.
The rabbit doesn't even realize it was begging the wolf to keep eating.
Teeth tear flesh, fangs puncture skin, claws rip at fur.
The rabbit wishes it didn't enjoy being eaten.
The rabbit was held down by paws, teeth burrowing in its flesh as it consumes what it wants and steals the rabbit's innocence.
Red stains its pristine fur.
The rabbit doesn't die from its wounds.
It wishes it did, but it lives.
But fur will never regrow over those scars.
Those will remain.
The rabbit just cannot stop thinking about the wolf.
It will sinfully crave the wolf's sharp teeth and piercing claws.
It will drag its thin claws through its fur and draw blood, but nothing will ever feel the same.

















