Wild Eyes

Sci fi/Fantasy image by

Eva Chait

The smell of pine and dirt and fur drives us. Faintly, the sent of blood. We prowel and stalk, looking for our wounded prey. A twig snaps, all attention focuses on the noise. Running, flying through the under brush that has built up over hundreds of years, where our fathers and mothers fought to survive. Jush behind fern, the lone buck, leg broken from before, hides, trying not to be found. Slow, quiet, stay calm, don't give into the frenzy yet. Now! Leap for the throat. Blood pours in scalding waves, the heat of life. Food for the family. Another day to live, another generation to survive. redid. i liky the picture ::nods::

Published More than a year ago

Category Horror

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