We Aren’t Ready For This

Once lithe, bulky, and brimming full of muscle was now a compromised bag of bones that could hardly skip. Large paws felt heavy as he prowled across the plains. Along the horizon, the sun would begin to set as a summer heat settled across his shoulders. His ribs still stuck out and if one were to touch his spine, they could count each vertebrae. Ghoul was a shadow of a wolf he once was. He was determined to right that wrong. To fix his mistakes. He would no longer be the hot-headed brash youngster that struck out at others whenever he saw fit. No, he would be much more than that. Better than that.

For now, he lingered. He enjoyed living within Insomnia and if he played his cards right, he would become someone to fear. That was his goal. To never allow anyone to ever take what was his from him again. Not his mother, not his siblings, not some dumb fucking statue. Never. Again. Rage seemed to linger right beneath the surface these days and he tried to utilize it in his training. He needs to fill his skin once more with the muscle that he had spent every day using. Ghoul pined to hunt again. To feel the thrill of the chase, the stalking, the takedown. Every last bit of it was something he missed.

Which is why he was out here. His belly against the grassy dirt as his deer-like tail flicked behind him as if he were a cat. Both ears pressed forward and his toes stretched and splayed. His ruby eyes - now sensitive to the bright afternoon light - blinked slowly as he watched the hare nibble on some brush. Could he catch it? How could he possibly teach Cricket how to be a better hunter if he couldn’t even catch a fucking hare? A growl suddenly rumbles in his chest as he clenches his jaw. The hare hears him, freezing as its beady eyes turns to his hiding spot. As it takes off, Ghoul sighs and lets his eyes close and chin rest upon his paws. Maybe tomorrow.

G H O U L