TIMING:Â current. LOCATION: downtown. PARTIES: @enthrallinglyeden &Â @incatsclothing. SUMMARY:Â when the surge finds rory shifting on her way home from work, eden gets to meet penelope. CONTENT WARNINGS:Â descriptions of gore.
The time the wolf spent within confines of the town â with the concrete ground and the brick trees â was always short. The moment it shifted, it tended to find its way to whatever patch of woods was closest. The soft dirt beneath its feet were more familiar than the sidewalks, and it preferred being beneath the trees to being surrounded by buildings. It also preferred the distribution of people there. While the wolf certainly enjoyed a chase when it came to its prey, human or otherwise, it disliked how bunched up people were within town. It made it difficult to focus, hard to decide who best to chase.
And so, when Rory shifted on her way home from work, the wolf made a beeline towards the woods. It was later, with no one out on the street. This was probably a good thing, if only because the screaming could get annoying when not accompanied by the thrill of a hunt. And in the moments just after a shift, when it was still getting its bearings, the wolf preferred quiet, anyway.
This did not mean the wolf would not take a chase when one was offered to it, though.
It smelled its prey long before it saw it. The quiet wafting of an unfamiliar scent coming through the air. Human, but not entirely. Human, but with something else beneath it. Curiosity thrummed through the wolf as it followed the scent, catching sight of a lone man walking away. He didnât seem to be looking at it; he may not have noticed it yet. But the wolf, as large and looming as it was, could not be ignored for long. Especially not as it began to bound after the man.
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Control had been one of the most important things that his mother had drilled into his head â both in terms of control over others, but more importantly, control over himself. It was probably that way for most sirens who were integrated into human society, but it was especially important for someone like him who had such a public-facing human life. Of course, the irony wasnât lost on Eden that his decision to be famous had been something completely out of his control, but the reasons why he resented his mother all started to merge together after a while.Â
Control was necessary. Control was survival. Control was something that Eden had always been good at, which was what made the uncontrollable prickling sensation throughout his body all the more noticeable as he locked up the library for the night. He hadnât felt completely comfortable in his body ever since his first shift in Wickedâs Rest, but whenever a potential loss of control threatened to take over, he was usually able to suppress it with some effort. He was having no such luck tonight, and Eden wiped the sheen of sweat from his forehead as he continued to run into the woods. Although his car was the only one in the library parking lot, he felt safer letting his body do whatever it was trying to do within the privacy of the trees.Â
Leaning against a tree and forcing himself to take three deep breaths, Eden started to feel the tension in his body subside. âCalm downâŚâ he muttered to himself in Mandarin, his fists unclenching as he took in his surroundings. Good, he hadnât wandered too far from the library, so it woulâ
A sudden crack of branches was the telltale sign of someone elseâs presence, but Eden didnât spot the creature until it had bound up mere metres from him. âWhââ he started to say. Luckily for him, his feet chose to move faster than his mouth in this instance as he immediately started sprinting. To where? He had no clue, but this unidentified creature didnât look like it planned to stop, so neither could he.
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The man moved towards the woods, and the wolf was happy to follow. It was almost as if he was inviting the chase, wasnât it? It was almost as if he wanted to be hunted just as badly as the wolf wanted to hunt him. Maybe he did. There was some instinct that existed within prey, sometimes, some quiet semblance of a thing that knew its place. There were creatures born to hunt, and there were creatures born to be hunted. Humans straddled the line between the two extremes, but perhaps this man had chosen his side. This would not lessen the wolfâs enjoyment of the chase. Prey that knew it was prey still ran, after all.
And, as the wolf made its presence known, the man did just that. He bound off, further into the woods, and the wolf let out a delighted howl as it followed. It had not been expecting to find a chase so soon, but it was glad for the turn of events all the same.Â
For most of its life, it had chased lesser prey. Rabbits and rodents, things so small that they disappeared down the wolfâs jaws with such little fanfare that they barely registered at all. The wolf always ended the night ravenous, starved for both food and entertainment. Since Roryâs separation from her family, this was no longer the case. The wolf missed its family, in its own way, but it did not miss the restrictions their presence had put upon it. It did not miss being confined to small areas with nothing worth hunting. It liked this. It liked the power that came with it.
Its feet slammed against the ground. Though it was a bipedal creature, it took to running on all fours in order to lengthen its stride. It didnât run at full speed, however; it wanted a chase, and giving this pursuit its all would end things more quickly than the wolf wanted. Things like this were more fun when the prey thought it had some chance of getting away, and so the wolf would give the man that. It would let him run; it would let him pretend he had some chance at escape. And then, it would crush his head between its jaws. Heâd make a fine meal, it thought. Heâd fill its belly until the next shift.
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Eden often wished that sirens had the night vision capabilities of some other species. Perhaps if they did, he wouldnât find himself in situations like this. He couldnât confidently make out what the creature was while on the move â even one glance over his shoulder would slow him down, giving the creature a chance to catch up.Â
He ran until his calves started to burn, then he ignored the pain and continued. The creature was not letting up, and the consistent slap of its paws against the ground was getting louder. His dress shoes had done the best they could carrying him this far, but as his breathing grew more laboured, he could feel his feet starting to go numb. At least his vision was well-adjusted enough to the darkness that he could dodge incoming branches without issue. The rocks and roots on the ground shrouded in darkness were another story.
Eden registered his foot snagging on the root early enough to put his hands out, his palms pressing against pebbles and wet soil. He was quick enough to save himself from injury, but the second spent on the ground was enough time for the creature to catch up. Scrambling to his feet, Edenâs hands remained out as if the imaginary barrier he was setting between them would be enough.Â
âStay back,â he said in a low but steady voice, knowing that he couldnât let the creature catch even the slightest waver. Now staring directly at it, he could tell it was a wolf of some kind. The wolf had stopped its chase, but not to give him mercy. Eden was familiar with the gaze of a predator, and the wolf was simply taking in the sight of him before making him its next meal. He opened his mouth again, ready to tell the wolf off once more. He did not expect a familiar melody to fill the woods instead.
The last time Eden had been unable to control his enthrallment, he was 15 years old on a set filled with unsuspecting people. He had gone through extensive training since then, never wanting his powers to slip like that again. But here in the woods, potentially staring into the eyes of death, his heart was forcing him to sing. âLeave me alone. Find a meal elsewhere.â
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As the man ahead of it tired, there was something almost leisurely about the way the wolf ran. It could have picked up speed and overtaken him in an instant, but then the chase would be over and the game would end. The wolf would have a full belly, but no more entertainment to enjoy for the night. It would rather extend the chase for as long as possible, rather have the chance to enjoy the kill like a cat batting a mouse between its paws.Â
But when the man stumbled and fell, the wolf knew that it signified the end of the chase. It lacked the patience and self control that would have been necessary to allow him to get up without pouncing, and the game would be less fun if he knew he was being played with, anyway. And so, the wolf slowed to a stroll, approaching the fallen man with drool dripping from its hungry jaws.Â
The chase was over, but it could still kill him slowly. There was fun in that, too.
He spoke in a firm tone, though his words were lost on the wolf. It was utterly incapable of understanding human speech; it had only even heard speech a few scattered times throughout its existence. Most of the time, the only sound it heard torn from human throats was screaming. Even if it had understood, it would not have obeyed; a predator had neither desire nor reason to listen to the whims of its prey, after all.Â
The wolf continued its slow, deliberate walk towards the man, tongue shooting out of its mouth to lick at its lips in a way that made its intentions clear. It took one step, and then another. And then⌠and then, the man spoke again. And this tone was utterly unfamiliar to the wolf, with its melodic thrum. The creature faltered, its legs locking in place. Its head tilted to the side. Confusion washed over it â confusion and something else, too.Â
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As confused as Eden was to hear the melody fill the space, it was also comforting. Even if he wasnât in control of his singing right now, it meant that he was at least in control of the situation. He watched as the creatureâs previously intense gaze softened, its head tilting to the side as if breaking its aggressive facade. He was safe. For now.
With the creature seemingly dazed in place, Eden tested the waters with a small step backwards. The creature did not move, so he backed away even further. If he could just keep this up, he could make it out of the woods. Even if his control over the wolf broke, he could at least put up enough distance between them to safely make it into his car. Surely his car would outrun a creature, right?
Eden made sure to never turn his back to the wolf, holding its gaze as if to show it that he wasnât afraid. He was almost out of the clearing, and once into the denser part of the woods, he could make a run for it. However, something pricked at his skin once more, sweat beading at his temple despite the cold winter air. His heart skipped a beat, panic seizing it as the rest of his body grew restless. The desire to shift, the desire to lose control â it was back.
Continuing to sing through gritted teeth, Edenâs fists clenched as he tried to regain his composure. There was pressure in his fingertips as his talons threatened to emerge, and a voice clouded his mind with a message that he hadnât expected.Â
Kill the wolf.Â
Eden shook his head almost comically, as if this action would actually shake the thoughts out of his mind. He did not want to kill anything. But then again, the creature had tried to kill him in the first place. Even if he managed to escape, would it stalk into town and make someone else its prey? Possibly a weak human who would have no way of defending themselves like he did. How guilty would he feel if the wolf killed someone, knowing that he couldâve put a stop to it?
Paralyzed by his indecision, Eden squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. His siren song grew louder, more desperate.
âJust leave me alone. Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Please.â
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Hunger gnawed at the wolfâs stomach; rage burned at its throat. It wanted, more than anything, to tear the voice from this manâs throat, to swallow the tongue with its melodic thrum and to open his chest to expose everything else within. It wanted, and yet, it didnât. It wanted and did not want, all at the same time. There was hunger and there was rage and there was something unfamiliar, too â peace, maybe, or tranquility. It warred with itself, legs still locked in place.Â
The man was backing away now, his eyes still on the wolf even as his body made a retreat. And the wolf could only watch, could only stew. There had been so few times when its prey had escaped it, so few times when it had wanted to sink its teeth into flesh and not felt the instant gratification of blood on its tongue. It had happened more in this town than it ever had anywhere else, had been more of a problem with the people here than it had been in its time since coming here. Perhaps it was an inevitable thing; before this, after all, the wolf had targeted mostly animals due to the absence of human prey to chase, and animals were easier to catch than people. That was what made people fun. But this logic had no place in the creatureâs mind. The wolf knew only that it was hungry, and that it had not been fed. The wolf knew only that something it wanted was being kept from it.
The wolf growled, low in its throat. It thought that this would be the end of things â that the man would make his retreat, and the wolf would go hungry for the night. But then, something happened. The man faltered. His jaw clenched tightly shut. His fingers shifted into something else, the scent in the air changing slightly with it. The wolf felt it too, the surge. It sent a new bout of rage through the creature, strengthened its resolve. Its teeth would tear the manâs flesh. It would taste his blood, would swallow his tongue, would rip his head from his shoulders.
Fighting through the enthrallment, the wolf managed to move one foot forwards. It was a herculean task, but determination clung to its muscles. It threw its head back, let out a howl. Maybe the sound would break the manâs concentration enough to quiet him; maybe then it could have its meal.
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His song grew louder, yet the wolf did not retreat. It was as if Edenâs body was vibrating now, as if some inexplicable force was attempting to take control by making him lose control. He clenched his fists, only to feel sharp talons dig into his palms. The shift was happening, whether he wanted it to or not.Â
It only took one second of lost concentration for everything to fall into chaos. He watched the wolf fight back, the creature using every ounce of willpower to take one step forward. The echoes of his song, the thumping of his heart, then the feral howl of the wolf rang in his ears.Â
Whether it was because his body sensed the impending danger or because he was finally losing himself fully, the shift felt quicker than usual. Just like the wolf only needed him to falter for a second to regain its strength, his siren only needed one crack to claw its way out. Eden felt the familiar pressure everywhere, a sharp pain striking his face as his bones cracked. A horrendous sight to witness, and just as horrendous of a sensation to feel. But when all was said and done and Eden stood up straight, he couldnât deny that it felt good.Â
When the wolf had howled, his throat had seized up and silenced his song. But now that he was fully in his siren form, now that he stood much taller than the other creature, Eden let out an unrestrained screech. He bared his dagger-like teeth at the wolf, letting his wingspan stretch out fully. He did not immediately lunge at the wolf â once again, he didnât want to hurt anyone or anything if he could help it. But he needed to stand his ground, silently praying that the sight would intimidate it enough to stand down. Try me now, he thought, looking down at the wolf and holding its gaze. An energy filled the air that he couldnât quite explain. He wondered if the wolf could feel it too.
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The creature before it moved in a way the wolf was not entirely familiar with. Not quite man and not quite beast, the creature shifted with rippling skin. The wolf knew, on some level, that not everything that looked human was human. The wolf understood, to an extent, that it did not spend all of its time in this form, and that logic dictated others to be similar, too. It had even seen creatures shifting between one form and another, had watched the man with unseeing eyes turn into a catlike creature, had witnessed a woman with a familiar scent shift into something more like the wolf itself. But this â watching someone go from man to avian beast â was new to the wolf.Â
Curiosity tickled its throat. Much as it had when the cat man had shifted in the woods, the wolf could not determine whether it wanted to swallow this creature whole or run with it through the trees, could not determine if it was a packmate or a meal. The wolf tilted its massive head, almost like another canine-like creature trying to determine how to make sense of the situation before it. What to do next? Attack? Or play?Â
The bird screeched, the pitch high and a little painful on the wolfâs sensitive ears. The beast took in the creature before it â the sharp talons, the deadly beak â and it wondered if the bird would make a formidable opponent. The wolf had never really had a real âfight,â so to speak; it had only ever had meals. Most of the things it swallowed did not stand much of a chance when it came to fighting back. But this creature would. And the wolf, proud and arrogant, was uncertain it wanted that.
Hesitantly, the wolf took a step back. The air around it felt energized, as if something invisible was sparking feelings it was incapable of understanding. In the distance, someone screamed. The wolf turned towards the sound with interest. If it could not fight the bird, perhaps it would find someone else to rip into instead.
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The only sounds piercing the silence of the forest had come from the two of them up until now, which made the scream in the distance all the more harder to miss. Edenâs head turned with the wolfâs, eyes widening curiously as if there was any possibility of analyzing the situation from here. He wasnât quite sure how he wouldâve reacted on a normal day where his mind was clear and he was human, but right now, the sirenâs instinct was to find out more.
The densely-packed branches made the option of flying near impossible, so Eden started to run. He did not look back to confirm that the wolf was following him, but he could sense its presence trailing behind just moments after he took off. Thank god for his siren form â the wolf would always be fast, but now with his taller stature and long legs, heâd at least be able to hold his own.
But his attention was not on the wolf, nor did he think the wolfâs attention was on him. Another scream â undeniably human â rang through the air, and both creatures quickened their pace. His talons crunched against the snow as a tantalizing smell started to fill his nares. It was metallic and thick and a sign that a potential meal was close by.Â
No, no, no. He did not yearn for a meal. He was sprinting to the danger out of curiosity, in case someone needed aid. Perhaps better yet, to protect the poor, weak human from the wrath of the wolf, since he knew the screams would be hard for the other creature to ignore. Eden would not satiate his hunger if it meant directly taking life. But maybe if he was lucky, the individual would be dead on arrival.
Coming into another clearing, the smell of gore was inescapable now. Even in the faint moonlight, the dark stains of blood were hard to miss against the snow. Edenâs eyes followed the trail to the edge of the clearing where a human lay on their stomach, their arms and legs sprawled as if they were attempting to crawl away. His stomach lurched â partially from the uncertainty of what to do, and mostly from his sheer hunger.Â
Something brushed against his wing, and Eden looked down to see the wolf stalking towards the body. âStop,â he said hesitantly. A meaningless command.Â
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The bird creature ran, and the wolf ran, too. It was no longer certain if it was chasing the bird or chasing the sound. Perhaps on some level, it was chasing both. It thought it still wanted to break the birdâs bones between its jaws (would they be hollow, like those of the sparrows it swallowed in New Mexico?), but the scream offered an enticing alternative all its own. Greedy jaws wanted both, wanted to taste both the bird and whoever was screaming. But one was an easier target than the other. The bird had made it clear that he would put up a fight; whoever was screaming in the distance had already named themself a victim with the sound.
There was another scream, and the wolf picked up pace. All four paws slammed against the ground, disrupting the mud and the dead leaves spread across the floor of the forest. The wolf was hungry, and it supposed it did not matter what eased that hunger so long as something did. The bird might taste better, but it could focus on the easier target. (It could devour the bird another day.)
The scent of blood and fear caressed the wolfâs nostrils, rising up to meet its snout like steam from a hot meal. The sound of whimpering and harsh, strained breathing met its ears, mingling with the scent. These senses returned to the wolf long before the scene was in view, offering it a preview of what it would find. A human, already half dead. Not the most entertaining meal, but certainly something worth taking a bite of.Â
The clearing stretched out in front of them, and the wolf crouched low, stalking forward. The bird murmured something, words the wolf could not understand. The tone was desperate, like it had been in the woods when the wolf had prepared to eat him, too. But it meant nothing to the beast; nothing was heavier than the scent of the blood or the sounds of the whimpers. The human turned its head towards the approaching beast and let out another scream, weaker than the two that had drawn it here. And the wolf, pleased with the sound, rose up and bound forward, closing the distance between itself and its meal.
The human was scooped into the wolfâs jaws, screaming and struggling weakly. Its mouth closed around the midsection, another shrill scream rising up. Louder, now. Fear of certain death added a shot of adrenaline into the system, as did the pain of the teeth digging into the stomach. The wolf shook its head back and forth, the thrashing human stilling with the motion. Teeth sank in deeper still, and then â
The legs fell from the wolfâs mouth; the torso remained locked in its jaws. The human had gone still and silent, heartbeat stopped. Entrails hung out, blood stained the snow. And the wolf felt some hint of quiet disappointment that the game was over so soon.
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As he expected, the wolf did not yield at his request. It observed its new prey as it had observed Eden just moments ago. Despite the growing dread that filled his chest, the siren could not bring himself to intervene. Perhaps it was the weak whimpers that that human was letting out, their final attempt at a scream solidifying the thought in Edenâs head. The human had been left for dead, and in this moment, they would be better off dead.Â
The siren had come to terms with what was about to happen, but it still did not make the sight any less jarring. He watched as the wolf snatched the human into its mouth, a flicker of desperation flashing in the victimâs eyes as the wolf further sank its teeth in. Eden wanted to look away as the wolf started to thrash the gradually stilling body, yet, the siren was transfixed by the scene. The birdâs desires were beginning to overwhelm him. Bright scarlet splattered on the snow and the smell of iron lay thick in the air as organs and limbs fell pathetically from the corpse. It was a horrific scene, and it was unfortunately stirring his appetite.Â
Edenâs thoughts were becoming hazy, the line between his thoughts and the sirenâs getting harder to identify. He took a tentative step towards the wolf, deeply inhaling the cold air as he began to salivate. Though the victimâs heart did not beat anymore, the siren could still pinpoint it in his mental haze. Energy surged through the air once more. Or maybe he was playing it up to justify allowing his animalistic side to take over. He did not exactly remember what happened next.Â
One moment the siren was merely observing, and the next he was lunging towards the wolf with an echoing screech. He looked it in the eye, shrieking in its face as if his life depended on it. And perhaps it did â the siren didnât know how much longer he could hold out without sustenance. He screeched until the wolf dropped the torso from its jaws, and when it didnât immediately do so, he pecked at its face for good measure. When the victimâs torso finally tumbled to the ground, the siren stretched his wings, pushing the wolf aside as best as he could.
With nothing in between him and a freshly deceased heart, the siren used his beak to hack at the corpseâs chest. He got past layers of skin and muscle, then the bird hammered at the corpseâs sternum with a desperation that mirrored the victimâs final moments. Hearing the sickening crack of bone, he had what he wanted. The siren dove into the ribcage, his tongue finally getting a taste of the hot blood that he had craved for so long.
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For the wolf, the hunt was never truly about the meal. It was hungry, yes, but it was not starved. It never needed to earn its sustenance from the creatures it tore apart, and though it had little concept or memory beyond the vaguest flickers of the hot meals Rory ate when the wolf was a girl, it understood that its stomach was rarely truly empty. Often, the wolf didnât finish whatever meal it earned for itself in its entirety, left parts and pieces behind for someone else to find. The hunt was more a game than a meal ticket, all things considered.
This did not mean it enjoyed the concept of sharing.Â
Instinct dictated the wolf to be a pack animal, but the bird creature was not something the wolf considered to be a part of its pack. Perhaps if it had had a better concept of shifters in this form, if it had understood that the siren was like it, like Rory, it would have felt differently. But the wolf was all instinct, and concepts like this were hard to grasp. The siren was not like the blind cat had been, friendly and brave in spite of the wolfâs sharp teeth. This bird creature proved itself an enemy with a screech that hurt the wolfâs sensitive ears.
There was no camaraderie to be found, then, when the bird swooped in to snatch the wolfâs prize. The bloody torso was snatched from the wolfâs hungry teeth, a beak pecking its face and taloned feet shoving it away. The wolf stumbled, though it refused to fall. It watched the bird hack at the corpseâs chest and let out a loud, furious roar.
The wolf pushed forward swatting at the bird to protect a meal it did not truly even want. This was more about pride than it was about anything else. The kill belonged to the wolf, and so did the aftermath. It would not give up so easily, would not relinquish its meal even if it also would not consume it in full.
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Eden wouldâve said that intercepting the wolfâs hunt was an unchivalrous thing to do, but the siren did not care. The bird was starving. How long had it been since his last proper meal? He had stopped keeping count after multiple trips to the beach in the dead of night, desperately searching for an unfortunate drowned soul only to come up empty-handed each time. Now, a fresh heart had essentially fallen into his lap without him having to do any of the dirty work, and the siren was not going to let an opportunity like that go to waste. Perhaps he was more like his mother than he realized.
The siren had anticipated resistance from the wolf, had anticipated the ear-piercing roar that it let out though it still made him wince. All he had to do was reach the heart and grasp the organ between his teeth before the other creature could properly react, then the bird could fly far away from this mess that heâd stumbled upon. But the wolf was sharp, and the sirenâs own technique had become sloppy after his idle years. Heâd taken too long, and the bird had only been able to taste a few drops of blood before claws were swatting at his wings.Â
Loose feathers floated through the air as the siren frantically shook off the wolf, but the other creature had a tight grasp. Blood dripped down his chin onto the snow, the proximity of the metallic scent making it hard for him to focus. The bird hissed in frustration. Just the heart, he tried to say, but the words got caught in his throat as they often did when the siren dominated his brain â when he could feel his humanity slipping further and further away.
The bird let out an annoyed screech into the night sky. He was a siren, for godâs sake. If something was not going his way, he simply had to take control. Closing his eyes, the words to the Chinese folk song began to fill the air, the melody thrumming through him. âHand over the heart. Just the heart. Then we go our separate ways.â
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The wolf snapped at the bird, protecting its meal with a mixture of instinct and rage driving it. Was it not the strongest thing here in these woods? The bird might have been crafty, might have been a more complicated prey than the wolf was interested in while something easier lay on the ground ready to eat, but the wolf was still bigger. The wolf was still more capable, still stronger, still in charge. It could tear the bird to pieces if it had the motivation to do so; the feathers that floated through the air were proof enough of that.Â
The screeching was annoying, though. The wolf had sensitive ears, and the sound was harsh and bordered on painful. It let out a furious howl in protest, though this did nothing to stop the birdâs assault on its senses. Instead, there was something else â a song that the wolf could not comprehend, and an urge that was just as impossible to understand.
The birdâs efforts had left the heart mostly exposed in the corpseâs chest cavity and, without knowing why, the wolf pulled it out with teeth that were almost gentle. It tossed the organ towards the bird with a huff, then gathered up the rest of the torso in its massive jaws. Still unsure why it was moving at all, the wolf turned away from the bird, walking in the opposite direction with the torso in tow and leaving the bird with the bottom half of the corpse⌠and the heart.
The wolf would never really be capable of questioning why it had done this; its thoughts were only ever half-formed extensions of its instincts. But if it ever saw another bird-creature again⌠well. It was safe to say the wolf would avoid them.










