Ashe
The second his signal sparks through the bond, I launch. Snow scatters under my paws, the cold air tearing through my lungs as the flock erupts in a blur of white wings. A few bolt straight toward me, panic in their beady eyes, and my jaws snap shut around the first one—there’s the satisfying crunch of hollow bone, the warm burst of blood flooding my mouth.
I shake it loose, letting the limp weight drop into the snow, and wheel on the next. A sharp bark drives a pair upward, wings beating frantically, and I leap after another that makes the mistake of running. My teeth clamp down on tailfeathers, yanking it back to the ground with a muffled squawk.
The flock scatters, flutters, and stumbles around me, and I’m grinning inside the wolf, tail wagging in a steady, eager rhythm as I dart after another, just for the hell of it. The chaos is loud and messy, exactly as it should be.
I shake it loose, letting the limp weight drop into the snow, and wheel on the next. A sharp bark drives a pair upward, wings beating frantically, and I leap after another that makes the mistake of running. My teeth clamp down on tailfeathers, yanking it back to the ground with a muffled squawk.
The flock scatters, flutters, and stumbles around me, and I’m grinning inside the wolf, tail wagging in a steady, eager rhythm as I dart after another, just for the hell of it. The chaos is loud and messy, exactly as it should be.
inside my blood and bone
and their network of tendon and meat
you and i, our histories of hunting
and being the beast.
