06-23-2009, 02:52 PM
[html]
(352)
The morning was cool, rain falling between the trees and running in tiny rivulets across the ground. The thick blanket of pine needles masked his footsteps, coupled with the white noise of the rainfall. Hunger tore through the young hybrid's midsection, causing him to rise and search for prey. He remained small and thin for his age, as though he wasn't getting the proper nutrition despite even now being within a pack. Lone wolves hunted for themselves and had reason to stay frail, but Jael was not alone anymore. He didn't have to fear for his solitary life every moment, always wandering and never staying in one place long. And yet, he looked younger than he was and far more delicate than he should be. His snowy coat could be a factor blamed in failed hunting, having to rely further on skill then any other wolf or coyote who had natural camouflage in their ashen and sandy pelts.
But even with a hare resting dead between his paws, the boy had yet to begin eating the life-giving flesh. He'd taken it's life to keep his own, and yet he didn't devour. Rather, he stared at the corpse in disgust, wondering what was wrong with him. His stomach twisted in knots, cramping and aching with his hunger, and yet this animal didn't tempt him. Finally, he forced himself to sink fangs into the soft fur, finding not the flesh to taste delicious, but the blood that oozed forth. Rain continued to fall against his back and head, dampening the dusty fur of the little creature, mingling now with the crimson that the wolf greedily licked up. What was wrong with him? This obviously wouldn't satisfy him as flesh would, so why couldn't he eat? Jael tore into the body now, but it was still only the blood he went after. Finally, when no more could be found he rose and moved to a river, washing the blood from his flawless pelt. He watched it cloud the stream's surface and run away with the current, momentarily staring back into his own broken, blurred reflection.[/html]
The morning was cool, rain falling between the trees and running in tiny rivulets across the ground. The thick blanket of pine needles masked his footsteps, coupled with the white noise of the rainfall. Hunger tore through the young hybrid's midsection, causing him to rise and search for prey. He remained small and thin for his age, as though he wasn't getting the proper nutrition despite even now being within a pack. Lone wolves hunted for themselves and had reason to stay frail, but Jael was not alone anymore. He didn't have to fear for his solitary life every moment, always wandering and never staying in one place long. And yet, he looked younger than he was and far more delicate than he should be. His snowy coat could be a factor blamed in failed hunting, having to rely further on skill then any other wolf or coyote who had natural camouflage in their ashen and sandy pelts.
But even with a hare resting dead between his paws, the boy had yet to begin eating the life-giving flesh. He'd taken it's life to keep his own, and yet he didn't devour. Rather, he stared at the corpse in disgust, wondering what was wrong with him. His stomach twisted in knots, cramping and aching with his hunger, and yet this animal didn't tempt him. Finally, he forced himself to sink fangs into the soft fur, finding not the flesh to taste delicious, but the blood that oozed forth. Rain continued to fall against his back and head, dampening the dusty fur of the little creature, mingling now with the crimson that the wolf greedily licked up. What was wrong with him? This obviously wouldn't satisfy him as flesh would, so why couldn't he eat? Jael tore into the body now, but it was still only the blood he went after. Finally, when no more could be found he rose and moved to a river, washing the blood from his flawless pelt. He watched it cloud the stream's surface and run away with the current, momentarily staring back into his own broken, blurred reflection.[/html]