Cricket Creek Bog and we won’t ever fight [m]

tw: cannibalism and gore
@Towhee

It’s a grotesque scene. Blood is painted across the wetlands; it’s churned with the mud, it stained the plants, it dyed the shallow pools. Chunks of flesh and fur make a path straight to the culprit.

Silly little wolf, he sang, Should’ve stood still! I’ve made a mess, and it’s all your fault! Parasite dug his paw into the laceration on it’s neck. That was the killing blow.

But don’t you worry. He leaned down and began to tear into the belly. That was his favorite part of the body. Always the warmest. I’ll clean it all up. Nothing would go to waste.