When Blood Loses Its Appeal – Chapter 2
The mule deer crashed chaotically through the undergrowth of the forest. He was a young male and would normally move his 200lb torso in a graceful and fluid way across the ground. Now though, he was stressed and agitated, and his movements were jerky and stumbling. He had run from a threat many times before and was used to bolting quickly and leaving the danger behind. Today was different. Each time he bolted, he would sense another danger in front, which would cause him to turn and bolt again, only to find another threat close by.
He had been fleeing and evading for 15 minutes or so and he was reaching a state of exhaustion. His heart beating frantically and loudly, unknown to him, was a beacon to those who were now closing in to finish his life. The deer suddenly went still and came to rest next to the remnants of a long since fallen western hemlock tree. He stood there, heat rising off his coat in heavy wisps of steam. The only frantic movements left were in his eyes as he found and tracked a stirring in the undergrowth ahead.
His instinct was to bolt again, but he had no strength left. Instead he let out a shallow raspy wheeze, wrapped in steam, into the air. A last action of defiance as the shape in front drew closer and other shapes appeared in his peripheral vision. Time slowed now for the mule deer. The shapes took form around him. He had seen such shapes before a few times but had always been able to outrun them. This time it was not to be.
The shape to the left of him made a sweeping motion of sorts and he felt a white-hot pain between his front legs. It was his end. Then the scene turned frantic and blood filled as the shapes massed over the torso of the deer. The quietness of the forest was broken by high pitched cries, ecstatic in nature.
Several minutes later the silence was broken again.
"That was a great kill guys." said Jasper in a deep guttural tone. He had surprisingly little blood on his skin or clothes.
"The best in quite some time, for sure." affirmed Carlisle, as he sat down on the decaying tree next to the fresh kill. He swiped at a spot of blood on the front of his anorak and then put his finger to his lips and relished the taste.
"He was a tough one, this fella. Gave us a real good run before he gave up." said Edward as he took a few steps back from the torso of the deer and turned towards the others.
"Hey Edward, you didn't feed much. Why is that?" asked Emmet as he crouched down and looked at the remnants of the deer. Then he turned quickly and studied Edwards face. Carlisle and Jasper were still focussed on their own satisfaction and seemed disinterested, but Emmet was stood up now and looking quizzically at Edward.
