the future is getting away from me
#1
[html]Lupus form.


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Snake—more esurient than he had felt in days—had immediately ascertained that his greatest chances for getting a good meal lay in the Forest of Nod. He rose early in the morning, from his temporary den in the Caves as his current project in the Landfill was still under construction, already shifted into his Lupus form. It was the easiest to hunt in, he had always thought. Attempting to hunt in Optime form was a laughable concept, and he found his Secui too bulky. The young coyote had always had a skill for shifting—his top time for going from one form to the next was a little under three minutes, though he averaged around four or five. He was very comfortable in his trinity of physical forms, but they all had their purposes. His most human was default for him, his Halfling and feral form for fighting, and his most basic canine form for hunting and travelling. That was how things were for him.


Regardless, the rains had spared the lands of Inferni once more, clustering more in the south of Bleeding Souls. The sky was a milky gray, shaded pink with the rising sun in the east, and the distant ocean and the omnipresent wind provided a background of sounds while the young coyote raced towards the trees. He met no one and he smelled no one—not strange, as this expansive land was only inhabited by perhaps a dozen coyotes and hybrids. He didn’t mind. Snake accepted that they must band together for survival, but he thought he was a pretty solitary creature at his heart.


He entered the forest perhaps ten minutes after travelling at a comfortable pace; he didn’t want to tire himself out before hunting. He lowered himself into a hunting crouch, creeping through the twilit undergrowth as he searched for traces of small game. They weren’t hard to find. Mouse, rabbit, squirrel, hedgehog, and maybe a few more trails of the more elusive martin and badger (though who would want to eat one of those nasty critters?) were scattered around. After a brief thought, Snake went along the easy route and started to track the freshest rabbit scent. Rabbit, to him, was much like breakfast cereal was to a person—it was overdone and eaten often, but it was so much of a staple to his diet that he refused to abandon it.


Not to go into the painstaking trivialities of hunting, but Snake got extremely lucky. He betrayed his position to his quarry a second before he pounced, giving it a head-start. After a ten-second long and pulse-pounding chase, the youth caught up to the brown-hued rodent before it could escape into its burrow. With a swift snap of his strong jaws, the creature’s life was ended. His olive eyes wide with the thrill of the hunt, and the taste of the fresh blood on his jaws sent him into the state of hunter’s euphoria. It passed somewhat as he picked up the limp catch and carried it to a hollow nestled between the roots of a huge tree, though it thrummed within his veins still as he began to devour the still-warm body. It was feral—tracing right down to the origins of predators and prey. Snake enjoyed being the victor in the small struggle, especially when it ended in a meal.


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