Ravensblood Forest walking with giants

When she was born, no one had anticipated it. The madre had shown no signs of pregnancy and had begun to prepare for the recitation of prayers for their pending celebration of one of their most sacred traditions. When the madre collapsed and begun to push, a litter of three came, one the splitting image of the madre, the other of the padre. Then there was her. The other two did not survive, weak from the foreshadow of malnutrition yet she did. Her birth was no blessing, and already she had experienced death.

As she grew she was the smallest of the other pups but she never let size dictate defeat. It was then that she had been taught weakness, how to find the vulnerabilities to execute an attack. After that lesson, she went for the underbelly of the biggest pup, and he bled. Had others not been around he surely would not have survived and yet she felt not one ounce of mercy.

Every hunt brought that sensation, the guilty pleasure of victory. To see the exposed underbelly of the doe, Mictec almost welcomed it like they were the gates to heaven, or perhaps in her case, to hell.

The pain will end soon she thought to herself, as if she could telepathically tell the doe to accept the doomed fate. So as she launched with razor sharp jaws for the final blow the doe's shrill quieted and soon eyes would glaze over.

"Nimitstlatlaz ne tequihua."