Blackfeather Woods to thirst, to crave

Nor' was the beast playing, it wished for a feast! A game of tag, they saw the other as a white hare of a delicious plump, yet, deformed. Leftovers, perhaps the pride they have wouldn't let take such a munch, but their scent was too much to avoid. Delicious, but time could only tell if it was true, all they need is a bite. 

Ah.

The taste of wine.

A small savouring of the forbidden nectar, so sweet and delicious. A prize posession.

They wanted more.

"To see, is to devour."

They took a stance, but Monty only had a domineering pose, hovering over the white spirit. Eyes, staring not at another wolf, but a prey to feast upon. So emotionless, yet so full of life that showed within thirsty emeralds. They latched on, right to the shoulder, but there was no struggle to avoid, only a ominous grin.

Then the beast attacked again, hoping for a larger chunk of flesh to officially taste. It wasn't enough- no, it was never enough! The other grabbed one, but it was only a play, for a lure to capture was what they truly wanted! Pain is a price to pay for the satisfaction that they truly want.