Monday, September 21, 2009

I Wouldn't Miss A Meal

My adrenaline started pumping, making my heart race.

I could tell by the tracks and sign on the ground that I was getting close.

Her smell sat on the wind like a strange perfume, foot prints disturbed the dirt showing she was tired, leaves crushed by her endless knowledge of pursuit.

I stalked quietly, knowing my target was only yards away, waiting expectantly for her predator to find her, I could feel her fear.

I closed in, my knife held expertly in my hand, slowing I reached forward and grabbed her hair from behind and before she could even scream, blood was pouring from her throat.

I bent forward and lapped up every scarlet drop until she was entirely drained, a fabulous supper.

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