I examined the neck area where I had bitten the wolf, now desperate for a way to satiate the gnawing hunger in my stomach. The ground was still wet from the rain, making starting a fire impossible without drawing unwanted attention. The option of eating the raw meat didn't seem wise either, risking illness or worse.
Frustration and the insistent growls of my empty stomach fueled my agitation. I sighed, tossing the wolf's carcass to the forest floor in a mix of helplessness and vexation. It was a harsh reminder of my predicament; surrounded by potential food, yet unable to utilize it.
My stomach growled louder, my body's way of urging me to find sustenance. My breathing became ragged, matching the turmoil within me. The sweet, salty scent of blood hung in the air, triggering my senses and pushing me to the edge of reason.
I began to reach for the carcass instinctively, driven by overpowering hunger and instincts. But I stopped myself. The internal struggle was fierce—human instinct warring with the primal urges of the demon within.
"Don't do it!" I screamed internally, trying to hold on to my fading humanity. "It's raw wolf meat. It might kill you if you eat it."
"But if I don't eat it, I'm going to die," the persistent voice of hunger whispered back.
Reluctantly, I pushed aside my hesitations and grabbed the dead wolf. Holding its neck, I tore at the flesh with my teeth, feeling the warm blood gush into my mouth. The taste was foreign, a mix of disgust and primal satisfaction.
This was my first time tasting raw meat. Succulent and tender, it was an unsettling but oddly satisfying experience. In that moment, my feral instincts took over, pushing away any remaining shred of humanity. I devoured the wolf with abandon, consuming flesh, organs, eyes, and tongue.
The feeding frenzy left me covered in blood from head to toe. Licking my fingers clean, savoring the taste of the fresh kill, I began to feel dizzy and weak. My vision blurred, and my mind grew fuzzy. My body, unaccustomed to such a diet, rejected it at first but slowly became accustomed to it.
Before long, the entire wolf was consumed. I was drenched in blood, but for that moment, I felt relieved.
Dizziness and weakness soon washed over me, and my vision blurred as my eyelids grew heavy. Collapsing to the ground, I shut my eyes.
This was my life now - devoid of a home to return to, a mother to comfort me, or friends to share laughter with. I was alone in this forest.
Laughter escaped me, perhaps mixed with tears, or maybe it was just my imagination.
I examined the neck area where I had bitten the wolf, now desperate for a way to satiate the gnawing hunger in my stomach. The ground was still wet from the rain, making starting a fire impossible without drawing unwanted attention. The option of eating the raw meat didn't seem wise either, risking illness or worse.
Frustration and the insistent growls of my empty stomach fueled my agitation. I sighed, tossing the wolf's carcass to the forest floor in a mix of helplessness and vexation. It was a harsh reminder of my predicament; surrounded by potential food, yet unable to utilize it.
My stomach growled louder, my body's way of urging me to find sustenance. My breathing became ragged, matching the turmoil within me. The sweet, salty scent of blood hung in the air, triggering my senses and pushing me to the edge of reason.
I began to reach for the carcass instinctively, driven by overpowering hunger and instincts. But I stopped myself. The internal struggle was fierce—human instinct warring with the primal urges of the demon within.
"Don't do it!" I screamed internally, trying to hold on to my fading humanity. "It's raw wolf meat. It might kill you if you eat it."
"But if I don't eat it, I'm going to die," the persistent voice of hunger whispered back.
Reluctantly, I pushed aside my hesitations and grabbed the dead wolf. Holding its neck, I tore at the flesh with my teeth, feeling the warm blood gush into my mouth. The taste was foreign, a mix of disgust and primal satisfaction.
This was my first time tasting raw meat. Succulent and tender, it was an unsettling but oddly satisfying experience. In that moment, my feral instincts took over, pushing away any remaining shred of humanity. I devoured the wolf with abandon, consuming flesh, organs, eyes, and tongue.
The feeding frenzy left me covered in blood from head to toe. Licking my fingers clean, savoring the taste of the fresh kill, I began to feel dizzy and weak. My vision blurred, and my mind grew fuzzy. My body, unaccustomed to such a diet, rejected it at first but slowly became accustomed to it.
Before long, the entire wolf was consumed. I was drenched in blood, but for that moment, I felt relieved.
Dizziness and weakness soon washed over me, and my vision blurred as my eyelids grew heavy. Collapsing to the ground, I shut my eyes.
This was my life now - devoid of a home to return to, a mother to comfort me, or friends to share laughter with. I was alone in this forest.
Laughter escaped me, perhaps mixed with tears, or maybe it was just my imagination.
