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 White's Story

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Harpevermore

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PostSubject: White's Story   Wed Jan 12, 2011 12:05 pm

This is a story for a wolf called White on another site. I was White on Kidswow, but I quit stupid Kidswow, so now I moved the story here. The part about the eyeballs, well . . . let's just say that fish eyeballs taste good. Except for eating the pupil.

The rabbit flew, flew with speed and energy, while I hopelessly chased after it. My tired limbs ached and my lungs were on fire. I knew I wouldn't be able to continue for much longer. The rabbit was escaping, slowly running out of my reach. My paw slipped and I yelped with the pain of a torn claw. All I could see was the ground underneath me, and my eyelids closing. The end couldn't be far now.
But it was far. Never trust your body; it will always disappoint and fail you. Suicide isn't possible for wolves, it can't be, so it isn't. How I wish it was. How I wish the hunger wasn't controlling me, forcing me onward.
I want to die. I want no more, no more hunger, no more pain, no more depression. I want a lot of things, a selfish wolf like me.
I licked my torn claw halfheartedly. A mouse scuttled about in the bushes a little ways away, but if I wasted the energy going after it, it wouldn't sooth my appetite. So I looked on. My eyes narrowed in concentration. I could see a deer about a mile away, hard to catch, but worth it when it's caught. If I creep slowly towards it, staying upwind, I'll have a good chance. But I didn't want to. I didn't want to live.
Sometimes you just can't control your instincts, and that's what happened now. I knew it was no use trying to fight myself, so I just let go. I left nature take its course, ignoring my inner emotions completely. I couldn't think; couldn't focus. My only intention was to live, despite my earlier thoughts. I had to catch the deer, had to find nourishment, had to survive.
Footsteps echoing lightly, I glided over the snow. I didn't exist in a way, for no one and nothing noticed me. I broke into a run, disturbing anything but anything. Then the deer's soft fur was underneath my claws, and my fur was red, bright red, blood red. The red of death.
But it wasn't my death! It was the deer's. Suddenly all my suicidal feelings came back in a rush. How I wished I was the deer! The lifeless deer. The dead deer. The prey. If only I was prey! What a curse it is to be a predator. I swore silently under my breath, but the smell of the doe was driving me crazy. At first just licking the blood off my coat and paws, I then proceeded to gently tear of a piece of flesh. Then another, and another, and then I couldn't control myself any longer. I devoured it, piece by piece, even eating the eyeballs, which I had always avoided in the past. They weren't that bad, actually.
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