Appetite In The Forest (Parts 1 and 2)

When first added to my blog collection, Appetite In The Forest and Meals On Wheels was published separately, but for reader convenience (and so you get the full effect) I have posted them back to back. First, you get the perspective of the hunted, the the viewpoint of the hunter. Enjoy!

Part One: Appetite in the Forest

I had always been told to stay out of the small forest behind my neighborhood. I can still remember the older kids on the bus scaring me with stories on my first day of Kindergarten. It was always the same, very cliché. Don’t go in. Kids go in and never return. Blah, blah, blah… I took these stories very seriously until I was about twelve. At that mature age I decided that the superstitions were for little kids and I never allowed myself to dwell on them. I did not, however, enter the forest. There was no reason to anyway. The tall tales of evil creatures feasting on the flesh of unwary trespassers had nothing to do with it! I became too old and wise to listen. I wish that now, at the ripe old age of twenty-seven, that I was as smart as I had been as a child. I wish I could go back and tell my younger self not to be so quick to dismiss the horror stories. If I had not gotten so grown up in my way of thinking, my blood would not be pooling on the hard ground. I wouldn’t be staring in paralyzed shock as a grisly, furry head dips its muzzle into my abdomen, pulling out sections of my intestine. Yet, here I am, being eaten alive, unable to do anything about it except watch in horrified fascination. The pain is intense, but I seem to be separating myself from it, drifting away, little by little. The terrifying snarls from the beast are becoming faint. I have no idea what this monster is; all I know is that the stories were real.

Part Two: Meals On Wheels (and sometimes on foot!)

Prowling through my forest, I glimpse movement to my left. I sniff the air, delighted to stumble across a meal so early in the afternoon. It’s surprising to see a human in the area. They’ve avoided me for so long I’ve almost forgotten the sweet flavor of their flesh. Almost. I glide through the brush, silently flanking my prey. He’s completely oblivious to me, as all of his kind have been, but I hesitate. I love the exhilaration of a chase, but an ambush ending in a quick kill has its merits. Indecisive, I follow him a little further. The wind shifts unexpectedly and I am amazed and disgusted that he doesn’t catch my scent. What an inept creature. I move in closer and crouch. The human is on foot; many that I have taken down were riding on metal contraptions with two wheels. I’ve found that pouncing on those is risky. The last time I encountered one, I got my fur caught in a chain and not only was it a painful experience, but it nearly cost me my prey. Ready to commit to the hunt, I lunge and grab the man from behind. Excited by his terrified screams, I shake my head back and forth, my teeth rending flesh from bone. Once I know he’s helpless, I raise my head and howl in triumph. The man is unable to flee, therefore the small noises and movements he makes don’t concern me. I settle in next to him, delicately sniffing his vulnerable belly. He begins screaming again as my teeth tear him open a little. I plunge my snout in deep, reveling in the wet warmth of his bowels. I begin to eat, noticing with amusement that he watches me do so. Slowly, awareness fades from his face and his eyes glaze over. He gasps one last time and dies.