Blackfeather Woods sad machine

For @Damien and @Ohen :D

His time was limited. The dog strode through the fields on thin, weary legs, his heavy-lidded eyes unfocused and lacklustre. The gnawing hunger that engulfed his stomach was unbearable — so much so that he had to stop every so often to regain his strength from merely walking. If it weren't for the pain that seemed to originate from every nerve ending in his body, Reaper would have thought he had crossed into the afterlife already. Tiny flowers, signalling the beginning on spring, sprouted from the ground haphazardly, and the dog resisted simply falling into the welcoming earth.

For some reason, he pushed onwards, compelled by some instinctual drive.

Food was the only thing the beast desired. Food and rest. Once he had the former, he could finally succumb to sleep. And he knew it would be a very, very long sleep. Coming to a slow halt, the mutt gazed up at a tall forest shadowed in darkness. The scent of wolves was thick here, and he raised a lip to show yellowed teeth in retaliation. "Wolvvessssss..." he growled lowly, almost as if in challenge to the hidden wild canines. They would have food. They always had food. Arching his back, dirty fur bristling and eyes flashing maliciously, Reaper slunk into the shadows of the woods.