Whispering Pines — Better run for the hills

The trees were a comfort.


She had a feeling- that familiar, nearly omnipresent, awful deja-vu that she had spent a lot of time in forests, in the past. And that she had liked the trees for a similar reason, too- that it meant she would be hidden from those who she did not want to be seen, by.


She had a feeling that that 'who' had changed significantly between lives, however.


In this new life, she had few goals. Hunt to prevent hunger. Hide from those who would hurt her. And.. keep moving. She didn't want to stay here, and she didn't know why.


Probably the snow. The snow sucked.


The snow that made her paws freeze until they hurt and then finally went numb. Snow that made a blinding white backdrop that she stood out on, like bloodstains on a wedding dress. The snow that left a pathetically easy to follow trail wherever she went. Yeah. She did not want to be in the snow anymore.


That was a good goal. Getting out of the snow. More marginally noble than the basal goals of eating and staying alive, anyways. Maybe more noble that this rotting, infested sack of flesh deserved.


Her teeth clacked sharply, and she lifted her head. She should hunt. Yeah, she was probably hungry. It was always hunger, wasn't it? That was why her guts hurt. Why she was so slow and tired and angry and sad. She was just hungry.


Maybe she could find a piece of carrion that wasn't herself.

@Huckleberry