Trekking through the world, the stagnant air passing by its head. It could feel something in the ruins, the smell of another living being, yet it did not come off as prey. It felt like the strange animals that walked on two limbs, and had the scent of fallen members of its pack.
It was here to strike vengeance for the fallen. To remove an enemy before it could find a new pack to call its own. The last one of seven, taken down by the fake prey. It had led them into the ruins, luring them one by one as it slaughtered the pack. Falling in different rooms, entire limbs missing, or holes through parts of their body. Surviving by devouring its fellows to heal, making it gain strength. The strength to hopefully combat this creature. Will it be enough? It did not know.
The sound of its feet crunching upon its path, searching. Jumping on top of a broken piece of concrete, it looked over a deserted town. It sniffed the air and found the scent of its fallen pack lingering. It was near the makeshift town that housed this creature. It could kill it, and be free of its quest. Coming closer, it realized a mistake it had made. Prey does not set up traps, it walks into them. For the first time in its life, it tried to flee. Before it had managed to escape, one of the creatures was staring down towards it, shrouded in the darkness of one of the rooms it had entered. It did not realize it had died until its head landed onto the floor, seeing a fang that was like the fangs of the other creatures, but it was not the same. In its final moments it saw the creature grab its core, before crushing it in its hands. It wished to cry out in anguish as it realized it would never be able to return as it dissipated into the ground.