Razorback Ridge SCP-087

In truth, she did not like this western cousin of Appalachia. She walked in the vast shadow cast by the ridge and watched it flatten then lengthen then transform in a slow molasses creep over the ground that had her antsy and uneasy. The spiral of stomach muscle in her tightened. 

It was almost nighttime and the blue sky was long gone. A bloody slurry wet her chin all the way down to her chest. Feathers were still tangled in her fur. She watched the dark stranger move in a fine controlled lurch down the side of the ridge and disappear behind a rock. 

Hunger overrode her fear of pain and death. She approached him walking then stopping then walking as she considered the emptiness in her stomach and the smallness of the bird she'd eaten and the coldness of winter drawing closer every day.