Reznya
The little animals are such little animals. The Pack has killed many, but the Pack wants more.
The Pack wants bigger.
The Pack wants better.
Reznya didn't know what to do. This new place, with all the big and the green and the sky, was the most wonderful place he had ever seen. But the Pack was still hungry. Reznya was hungry. A dog must eat. And the little animals were such little animals.
And so the Pack was searching. They were searching for more food. Searching for something to eat. Searching for something to hunt.
The Pack was hungry.
Their hunger kills.
The Pack could smell different animals. The Pack could smell the kitties. The kitties smelt different than the kitties the Pack had met before, but that was no matter.
The Pack had killed kitties before.
The Pack could kill kitties again.
But still, the Pack was roaming. They bounded through water, over grass, under clouds. It was so big. And the softskins weren't there to stop them running.
The Pack loved to hunt.
The Pack loved to kill.
The Pack loved to run.
Reznya halted the pack at the top of a hill, his tongue slapping against his jaw as he panted. Reznya was happy. But Reznya was hungry. He had to eat. His Pack had to eat.
He barked at the Pack behind them, and they barked back, excitement turning their growls into yips.
The Pack loved to hunt.
The Pack could find kitties.
But the kitties could wait.
Because the Pack loved to run.
And so the Pack ran. They ran through tall grass, past bushes, under leaves. The Pack was running. And the Pack was hunting.
The Pack loved to hunt.
But Reznya wasn't ready to hunt kitties. He wanted a den. The idea had flitted into his head like the birds that were flitting through the trees. A Pack needs a den. This Pack would find a den. Where were all of the dens?
And so the dogs raced through the forest, searching, hunting, and sniffling for a den. A place they could call home. A place away from the softskins. They momentarily forgot their hunger in their quest. A dog's mind is a complicated thing. Nobody can every foresee what a dog will desire, or what he will loath. A dog will both follow his whims and his duties. He can be distracted, or totally focused. But dog's mind should not be mocked. A dog's mind should be feared.
The Clans had forgotten this.
The Clans would pay the price.
So far, the feedback seems to be leaning towards longer chapters, but if you disagree then you have another week to send me a message or post a comment. These "Pack"chapters are being written in a different style than what I'm using for the rest of the story, and it's actually pretty fun to try and get inside a dog's head. What's your opinion?
As always, thanks for reading!