Word Count: chapter: 300||story: 3,300||Chapter Count: 11/26
His jaws closed down on the squirrel with a triumphant snap. It wasn't a very large meal but he finished it off as quickly as he could and prowled forward, searching for water and perhaps more food.
Maybe another squirrel. That one tasted good, though he suspected hunger flavored it to some extent. He didn't remember squirrel being this delicious before.
Well, he really didn't remember eating squirrel at all. But that wasn't such a surprise. He didn't remember much from before having woken and fleeing the monsters.
He spied a stream ahead and hurried toward it, splashing through, washing streaks of blood from his fur. He paused long enough to take some water in, shaking himself afterward, and cast about. Food had to be somewhere.
He picked a direction and surged towards it, drinking in the air deeply, searching for any scents. What he caught sent him moving toward it with greater speed. Food! He couldn't be certain of what; it didn't smell like squirrel but he wanted to find whatever it was and crunch it between his teeth.
Tracking down that lovely scent took more time than he thought it would. He focused all of his attention on tracking it down. The woods around him blurred as he moved, the air chilling briefly the farther he went.
He found himself going up a slope and reached the top of a hill. Spread out before him he now saw a breadth of meadow drenched in moonlight. Moving through it he saw a small herd of four-footed, antlered beings.
Deer! He flexed his claws and circled around so he could approach without them scenting him. This would fill his stomach more than the small creatures would. He stalked carefully, planning his strike well.
This wasn't a bad place to live.
To Be Continued Notes: A danger of shapeshifting: the longer you're in it, the more it dominates your thinking.