Blackfoot Forest sick cycle carousel

Zombie scowled as she stalked through the thick trees of the wailing forest, her green eyes electric in the moonlight. It was the same every time she allowed her heart to open and to trust, every time she allowed herself the belief that she could heal and become whole. She was the walking dead—a ghost, forgotten and abandoned, always abandoned by the living. She had thought that Jinx would be different than the others, for the female had spoken passionately of blood bonds and loyalty. But Zombie had not seen hide or tail of their leader since.

A fox darted out in front of her, and the skeletal wolf bared her teeth in a snarl. Hunger clawed at her belly—a feeling she was used to, that comforted her in its familiarity. Inexplicably, this time Zombie chose to fight it rather than give in. If there were no herds, no pack to bring down prey, she would find her own. She turned sharply, instinct taking over and triumphing over her lack of experience, and the thin female followed the fox.