we hear about an unnatural, the pack takes a trip to the city, does a quick and efficient hunt, takes care of the problem.
No one wants to report an unnatural. At least, in any way that would suggest they’re responsible for the creation. Sloppy half-kills are worse than massacres in our opinion.
So, sometimes losers make mistakes. Who doesn’t? But their mistakes become nightmares; confused beasts whose hunting and killing instincts have been heightened, as well as their night vision and other senses. Their instincts also draw them to us. Sometimes they steal our weaker members. Believe it or not, they terrorize us. They certainly have a heightened urge to mate.
I should also say here that we generally don’t go after the human population for our meals. Oh, we kill them plenty--when we interact in the business world and they get in our way, or that sort of thing. But we are pretty selective in our ‘prey.’ And honestly, humans can’t run fast enough to give enough thrill for a hunt. And they tend to paralyze somewhere in the brain section when they’re under extreme stress. We are, above all, predators of the highest order. We like a challenge. Sorry, average humans just don’t make the grade.
Snicker.
A deer provides a better challenge than most people.
So, you’d think that an unnatural would be the ultimate in prey, especially after they go crinos.
Some think so.
Most of us are a little smarter than that, and recognize the personal risk. When it comes down to it, we’re not half the beast that you might think. We think rationally, weigh our odds.
But we can’t afford to let an unnatural roam free. Well, roam at all. If they go and half-bite people, we’d have a zombie-type nightmare on our hands. They’d maybe start a pack of their own. And then we’d have real trouble.
I probably should have mentioned that it was late, late enough for the early rising moon to be up. Dusk had fallen while the losers did their deal, and yeah, the moon was full.
Hood saw me balking. He snapped, “Go, Fera,” like I was a domesticated dog. Talk about making me see red.
I mean, I am the prime pussy of the moment. And I’m not talking about cats.
Leer shook his head, even he was having trouble trying to clear his brain. He said, “Kayty, get her put up now.”
I thought that was interesting. I really balked, then. That was a new little tidbit of empowerment. I’d always thought there was just something that couldn’t be breached between him and Kayty. But his reaction, his body language, made me think...just maybe...there was hope.
Kayty squashed that in one feral snap-and-pop shift to crinos. It’s like playing rock, paper, scissors. Lupus beats human. Crinos beats lupus. She said, “All right, bitch, I can smell your heat.”
She dragged me off then. It was degrading, made me furious. And I could feel my inner self grinding its will to get out, to fight my cause. I started thinking like a real bitch. Thinking I could maybe slice Kayty once, in the belly, and it would be all she could do to slash back--her mothering instinct would have her dropping to a ball.
It’s kind of ugly when you get right down to it. And I don’t like looking back at those moments when she was hauling me across the compound. But surprise of surprise, she didn’t toss me in the garrison. She threw me into the den and then scrunched down on her haunches like a Neanderthal. Her eyes flashed and her teeth gnashed, and I knew she was warring with a few inner truths of her own.
She said, “Make no mistake, Fera. I’ll kill you before I let you near Leer.”
I had to chuckle. After all, if Leer wanted me, she would be out, period. I’d have to watch my back forever until she was put down, but Leer really made the ultimate choice.
At the moment, I didn’t take the time
No one wants to report an unnatural. At least, in any way that would suggest they’re responsible for the creation. Sloppy half-kills are worse than massacres in our opinion.
So, sometimes losers make mistakes. Who doesn’t? But their mistakes become nightmares; confused beasts whose hunting and killing instincts have been heightened, as well as their night vision and other senses. Their instincts also draw them to us. Sometimes they steal our weaker members. Believe it or not, they terrorize us. They certainly have a heightened urge to mate.
I should also say here that we generally don’t go after the human population for our meals. Oh, we kill them plenty--when we interact in the business world and they get in our way, or that sort of thing. But we are pretty selective in our ‘prey.’ And honestly, humans can’t run fast enough to give enough thrill for a hunt. And they tend to paralyze somewhere in the brain section when they’re under extreme stress. We are, above all, predators of the highest order. We like a challenge. Sorry, average humans just don’t make the grade.
Snicker.
A deer provides a better challenge than most people.
So, you’d think that an unnatural would be the ultimate in prey, especially after they go crinos.
Some think so.
Most of us are a little smarter than that, and recognize the personal risk. When it comes down to it, we’re not half the beast that you might think. We think rationally, weigh our odds.
But we can’t afford to let an unnatural roam free. Well, roam at all. If they go and half-bite people, we’d have a zombie-type nightmare on our hands. They’d maybe start a pack of their own. And then we’d have real trouble.
I probably should have mentioned that it was late, late enough for the early rising moon to be up. Dusk had fallen while the losers did their deal, and yeah, the moon was full.
Hood saw me balking. He snapped, “Go, Fera,” like I was a domesticated dog. Talk about making me see red.
I mean, I am the prime pussy of the moment. And I’m not talking about cats.
Leer shook his head, even he was having trouble trying to clear his brain. He said, “Kayty, get her put up now.”
I thought that was interesting. I really balked, then. That was a new little tidbit of empowerment. I’d always thought there was just something that couldn’t be breached between him and Kayty. But his reaction, his body language, made me think...just maybe...there was hope.
Kayty squashed that in one feral snap-and-pop shift to crinos. It’s like playing rock, paper, scissors. Lupus beats human. Crinos beats lupus. She said, “All right, bitch, I can smell your heat.”
She dragged me off then. It was degrading, made me furious. And I could feel my inner self grinding its will to get out, to fight my cause. I started thinking like a real bitch. Thinking I could maybe slice Kayty once, in the belly, and it would be all she could do to slash back--her mothering instinct would have her dropping to a ball.
It’s kind of ugly when you get right down to it. And I don’t like looking back at those moments when she was hauling me across the compound. But surprise of surprise, she didn’t toss me in the garrison. She threw me into the den and then scrunched down on her haunches like a Neanderthal. Her eyes flashed and her teeth gnashed, and I knew she was warring with a few inner truths of her own.
She said, “Make no mistake, Fera. I’ll kill you before I let you near Leer.”
I had to chuckle. After all, if Leer wanted me, she would be out, period. I’d have to watch my back forever until she was put down, but Leer really made the ultimate choice.
At the moment, I didn’t take the time
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