Countdown

Áskell couldn't believe they were already half way through fall. Winter was probably going to rear its ugly head well before he was ready at this rate. Pulling himself out of the muddy water he shook out his coat, teeth clasped tightly around a carp. He'd never caught a carp before so he had no idea how boney they were. The fish had been swimming near the surface so of course he just had to try and catch one. The fish flopped and flailed in his mouth so he quickly scrambled over the willow roots onto solid ground where he dropped the fish. Ok… now what was the best way to kill these things? He bit at the head, trying to hold it down with his paws until his lower fangs clipped the gills, sending a rush of blood over the grass. Oh! There was the throat! He bit down hard until the fish stopped moving… well mostly. It continued to spasm even after life had left it.