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

For the most part, Huckleberry's days were carefree and today had been no different. He had set out to investigate the forest, sniffing here and there at piles of pine needles that had accumulated on the forest floor. The summer air had made the underbrush grow into thick leafy foliage that he trampled without much concern, shoving his face under branches and between leaves to see what sorts of insects and critters he might find. Today he'd found a large beetle with a glossy blackish-blue shell that shone whenever the sun hit it just right. He wasn't sure what kind it was but he moved his face closer, listening to the hum-bum of its wings when it skittered away. It wasn't until his stomach gurgled that his attention was finally torn away from the fascinating insect. Hunger. In his excited scampering, he'd forgotten to feed himself and now his stomach was interrupting his adventures! He let out a huff of disappointment as he stomach gave another growl and trotted away through the trees. His tail wagged behind him as he haphazardly wandered in an unclear, unplanned, zig-zag path. Using his paw to lift a rock, he looked underneath but only found some worms. He wasn't opposed to eating worms but that wasn't quite what he was looking for. He gave another hmphf! and moved along again. His nose raised to the air, nostrils twitching as he scented for anything interesting. A breeze brought an interesting scent. It smelled like rotting meat. He stopped and ears pricked up with curiosity as he poked his nose higher still, attempting to get a better whiff. Yep. Definitely something rotten. Maybe an old rabbit? He wasn't sure but that definitely sounded like something worth checking out. Whether it was lunch-to-be or just something fun to look at, he didn't care. So he scampered away through the trees quickly and came galloping toward the source of the scent without trying to be quiet at all. Branches cracked under his paws and leaves whipped noisily as he shoved them out of the way. Quickly he came until suddenly he jumped through some bushes and something was in front of him. Quickly, he skidded to a halt and said eyes on the creature he'd almost crashed into. A jackal? A dog? No no. He knew this one. It was a coyote. He'd only seen a few of them before. "Oh, sorry," he apologized, tail still wagging with enthusiasm. "I almost ran into you there. I was just passing through lookin for... for..." his eyes were starting to look over the coyote. There seemed to be something not quite right with her. "Well, I dunno. I was lookin for something. What are you doing out here?"