Mudminnow River Wish I had more time

He had spotted her ages ago as he'd stalked along, and when he did he felt the same greedy pull in the pit of his belly that made him target these foul creatures; he picked up the pace and trailed after her. A few times the cat thought he'd lost the pale wolf upon the hillside - the snow was fresh - and he cursed at himself mentally for being so easily waylayed. It wasn't until an hour or so later, as he went about his business, that Zugzwang found her trail again. He discovered the wolf-scent scattered among some bushes, the snow beneath having been stained with red and pink tones due to her feeding. He knew not to eat the berries, but was amused that the wolf had no doubt consumed many - this dampened his mood a little bit, because her self-poisoning was an entertaining thought but it would lead to an easy hunt.

The cat could hear her in the wilderness - the hacking, and soon enough the sharp smell of vomit hitting the snow. Zugzwang did not need to go far. He found her coughing blood in to the snow, and upon spotting the sharp red on her lips he felt invigorated — he wanted to see more, to taste it, to watch her pale coat soak in that color. The cat's eyes flashed dangerously as he stalked closer, closer, closer — and just as she loosed her call for help, he launched himself. She was already on the ground, already doomed — but he would make quick work of the rest of her.

Zugzwang charged in to her and with a drag of his palms, sliced the flesh of her haunch. He reached again with one set of claws, then the other, and pulled her close in an embrace, only to gouge at her with his hind limbs, to fold himself across her smaller form and rend her to pieces. By the time he'd grown bored with the game of tearing, biting, and bleeding her, the blood was everywhere. She was alive (because that was his will) but not for long. As he left her, he grasped one of her limbs with his teeth and with all the power within his upper body, he yanked one way, then another, listening to the chorus of the popping joint and cracking bones.

As he departed, he left a trail of crimson from where he'd grabbed his pound of flesh. The limb went with him a few feet before the awkward hold became too irritating for the fickle cat. Zugzwang dropped the limb after that, and picked up his pace. Wolves were pathetic creatures that relied on groups for survival, and he had been quick to do his work - but he would not stick around to deal with the fallout. He'd had his fun, and now he was free.

Exit.