Like a starved animal on fresh meat, you pounce. I watch as you tear the flesh with your incisors: ripping; consuming; engulfing. In need of more or wanting more, I will never know – your mind is a maze and, regardless of how hard I try, I can never find the correct route to its centre. Sitting; observing, I wait. Lick my paws and sniff the air. A faint scent of death tinges the cool night deep red as I close my eyes. The colour burns on my retinas as contentment washes over me like a bucket of ice. I slowly open them, aware of my every limb creaking in the silent darkness.
We are alone, but for the body lying between us – slowly becoming a carrion. I circle you like a vulture, except meat is not what I want to gain. You look up, finally aware of my presence, flesh hanging from your mouth as you give me an appraising look.
‘Do you want some?’ It asks, to which I respond with my eyes, ‘all yours.’ You crouch back down, jowls quivering as you chew, no longer aware of the simple things in life, like the breeze ruffling your fur, or else the moon making its slow progression to the west.
We continue like this for a long time: me surveying the surrounding land, you calculating how long the meat will sustain your often empty innards. As the sun begins creeping from the east, you finish, springing up from the leftover bones and rushing over to me joyfully. Full of life after days of anguish; your stomach controls you. Tackling me to the ground, we roll in the grass like two lovesick puppies. Except we growl and snap at each other rather than kiss and caress. We continue this way for a while, before both parting in the same moment, leaping away from each other as if physical contact were illegal and nature was judging us. Looking across the landscape into the distance, we walk on.
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