Oh ... You thought?

As her brothers lunged, Ravana hung back, her eyes gleaming as she watched them descend on the filthy intruder. The wolf barely resisted, its strength already sapped, a pitiful struggle of bones and gasps as it was dragged out into the snow where it should have stayed.

Blood seeped quickly, pooling in the snow beneath them, a warm, metallic scent that wrapped around Ravana like a familiar embrace. She edged closer, her steps light, careful, as her brothers wrestled the beast down, their growls filling the air. The creature’s eyes rolled back, and in that final, desperate twitch, Ravana saw her moment.

Moving with practiced ease, she slipped her paw in, feeling the slick warmth of the wolf’s open belly—already slashed open courtesy of one of her brothers—as her claws found a loop of intestine, soft and pliant, still pulsing with the last vestiges of life. Her heart thrilled as she gave a quick, precise tug, freeing the length of sinewy flesh without her brothers even noticing. The intestines were warm and supple in her grasp, glistening in the dim light, and she thought with dark satisfaction about how they’d dry into something marvelous. String worth far more than the life it had come from.

As she withdrew, a small smirk curved her lips. A future component of a charm, perhaps—one that would carry the sickly joy of this night.

ravana