E A T

In the Willows, where the ancient trees whispered secrets of old, and the moon cast its silver glow upon the land, Redrum sought to hone his skills. As the rays of moonlight painted the landscape with hues of muted blue and gray, Redrum emerged from the willows, his sleek red coat glistening in the low light as the pond water reflected his visage back to him. He desired more than anything to be a source of pride for his pack, and his mother. How could he not when his life started off with a rough patch? Though fleeting were the days when he would feel the terror of being prey grip his heart. He was a predator. He had to be as mighty as his mother, his name had to mean something. What if one day it was all that remained of him? No, he had to push himself. Push and push until even the way his body disobeyed him with its erratic movements would be such a small flaw — easily overlooked. The boy turned away from the pond, his attention shifting into something more determined and serious.

With each step, his young muscles rippled beneath his fur, anticipation coursing through his veins like wildfire. He had hunted before, but never alone. Unless you counted lizards and mice. No, today he was going for something that had eluded him thus far. The clever and speedy rabbits that frequented the dance floor and the undergrowth of the willows. They were usually spooked away quickly by his bright fur, but that’s exactly why he had chosen to do this at night. When the coloration of his body could be balanced by darkness.

With keen eyes scanning the underbrush for signs of prey, Redrum ventured deeper into the forest, his senses attuned to every rustle and whisper of the wind. The scent of pine mingled with the earthy aroma of damp leaves, guiding him towards his quarry even if he didn’t know it yet. Rabbits were tricky, and so adept at survival he would need to persevere if he truly wanted to catch such flighty prey. He crept quietly, his body low and each paw careful from step to step — avoiding obstacles and twigs that could stop his hunt dead in its tracks. Surely, if he had set a trap this would have been much easier, but there was something important about sticking to the basics wasn’t there? The boy let his senses do all the work, his olfactory system allowing him to get basic information from each scent, so that he could choose his perfect target. A few rabbits. One that smelled… off. One that smelled healthy. One that smelled of metal. Perhaps it was injured. The first might have been ill or diseased, which meant there was only one trail to follow. The healthy one, the one that would also give him the most trouble.

Redrum set off, following that faint trail as it grew stronger and stronger. Eventually it was all around him, and he found himself at the edge of what might’ve been a warren. He was moving to inspect the scents again, to see if his quarry was within or nearby. When suddenly, a flicker of movement caught his attention—a flash of white against the verdant backdrop of the forest. Why white? It wasn’t winter. But it did make this much, much easier.

Heart pounding with excitement, Redrum crouched low to the ground, his golden eyes fixed on the unsuspecting rabbit nibbling on a patch of tender grass. It had not noticed him, and it was only then he could see that its eyes were pinkish red, this albino creature in the dead of night who stood out more than he did during the day. He could appreciate that. But that didn’t mean he would stop his hunt now. With silent grace, he inched closer, muscles coiled like springs, every instinct honed towards the singular purpose of the hunt. Closer, closer still, until he could practically taste the thrill of victory. He was careful with noise, careful to hide his big boyish body behind the cover of underbrush.

Then, in one fluid motion, Redrum lunged forward, a blur of fur and sinew hurtling through the air. The rabbit, sensing danger too late, attempted to bolt, but it was already too late. With jaws like steel traps, Redrum closed his teeth around the rabbit's neck, a primal growl rumbling deep within his chest. The delicate bones of the rabbit crunched easily between his teeth, and for a moment he realized he’d put way too much strength in his bite, for fear he would lose his catch. Silly.

Finally! For a moment, time stood still as Redrum savored the taste of triumph, the thrill of the chase coursing through his veins and threatening to addict him. With the prize firmly clutched in his jaws, he made his way back to the large pond, a triumphant gleam in his golden eyes. The scent of blood filled his nares with its intoxicating aroma and warmth as it trickled down his chest. And he knew he'd finally gotten the hang of hunting, and what a satisfying feeling it was. To truly feel like he was no longer the prey.

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