Feeding

His paws pulse as they lightly strum the ground with the blazing pace.  His eyes track the gray fur ball of a rabbit and his brain calculates the intercept course.  A slight course adjustment and he is set.  His open jowls drip with saliva in anticipation of the meal, but the fleeing rabbit takes an unexpected left and the wolfs momentum breaks.  A slight skid on the pine needles below his feet and then a strong break in a new direction send the wolf off towards his prey.  His ears rest flat on his head and he moves left then right around the trunks of the trees, barely noticing them since his eyes never waver from the meal in his sights.  The twitch in the rabbits hind quarters tells him all he needs to know and the rabbits attempt to juke in a new direction is the last decision it makes.

The wolf cuts to the right and snags the rabbit in his teeth.  He stops abruptly and slides on the pine needles then rolls to his side with the meal in his mouth.  He quickly rights himself and takes the life from the rabbit, snapping its neck with violent shaking and crushing its spine with his jaws.  He drops his meal and pants with his ears up while taking in his surroundings.  The smell of pine trees surround him and he hears water in the distance, but no others.  No danger.

His foot steps on the carcass while he pulls at the skin of the rabbit with his teeth, tearing a puncture hole open, dropping blood onto his legs and the pine needles below.  The fresh meat is exposed and the coppery scent of fresh blood floods his senses.  Nothing else matters and he tears into the fresh meat, crunching and swallowing bones and flesh as if there is no distinction between the two.

His belly full, he carries the head and trailing, fur covered skin his his mouth towards a tree and drops it unceremoniously.  He nudges pine needles over the remains, looks at his handiwork then trods off towards the sound of water, leaving his left overs to fester for later.

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