So hungry. Too hungry. A thousand earthquakes rumbled in my belly, forcing me to snarl with anger. My brother was padding behind me, crunching the snow beneath his paws. We had been travelling for hours now, and there had been nothing but snow for miles on end. Snow and death. There was something about these woods that turned my guts to soup, even with the new form I had taken. The silence was much less comforting than the sound of a man's screams, or the call for help that could echo around these parts. But my belly did not know fear as I did, only food. Hungry. So hungry. My mouth began to water at the thought of blood. The bear's memories were now my own, and I could recall the meaty flesh I had taken from Krig's hide. It wasn't just the meal that salivated me, It was the power I had over him. The beast's instincts were plain enough, but I could not decipher if the latter was just as instinctual. Who am I?
My brother came padding to my side, whining and nudging me like a child trying to grab the attention of its mother. He was hungry too, perhaps hungrier than me. We had taken all the contents from the head of every man we killed, but it was not enough to satisfy us. If only they weren't wearing armour. Just how many days did they…we go without eating? My brother was still nudging me, boiling the anger building up in my stomach. I rose with indignation, using my hind legs to tower over him. I growled and watched on as he crept back, whining and shivering. Fear. That salivates me too.
With my anger came the scent of something familiar. Going back on all fours, I dug my nose into the snow and followed after the scent, eager and hungry. Wolves. Those noisome beasts were always in packs, not daring to leave their kin. Their lot were fast, with teeth as sharp as mine, and with numbers much greater than ours. Though, men came in packs too. And their like was much smarter, more cunning, with steel and fire to aid their lacklustre strength.
The closer I got to these canids the more scents I could uncover. Yes! Blood, blood!Meat, flesh! If my brother had the cognitive mind for language, perhaps he would be thinking just the same as me. I dashed through the woods without a care, my breath misting and mingling with the cold air. There, I could see it. A pack of wolves with the meaty flesh of a man in their territory. The beasts could smell me coming from a mile away, and some scurried back into the woods, not willing to quarrel with death. One of the wolves closed its mouth around the dead man's neck, refusing to pass over its meal. I growled in admonition, accentuating my mercy with a snap and a sudden leap that forced the wolf to flinch.
The others came crawling back, their tails pointing up into the air like banners. The intrepid wolf had emboldened them to remain steadfast, to stand their ground against their only adversary. As stubborn as the humans, what a shame. My brother had no such patience for obstinance. He charged at the rebellious wolf and throttled it with all his strength, scarcely did he have to use it all, for the entire fight, if a fight it could be called, was a one-sided slaughter. Their brothers wanted to help, but their fear had placed intangible shackles around their legs. I stood behind my brother and watched them all, scanned them, snarling and standing on my hind legs. Do something now.
The cowards did nothing. The struggle behind me died as quickly as it came, the wolf gave in and showed its belly in surrender, but my brother did not know the meaning of mercy. He tore at the beast's stomach with his mouth, ripping out a rope of guts and entrails. The wolf attempted to flee, but my brother placed his paw on its neck and held it down with all his weight, sinking his fangs back down into its stomach. Its brothers knew what fate would meet them, and the flesh of one man was not worth dying for.
The irony is palpable, for we were also taking a risk.
The cowards left behind their brother to die, tail between their legs, and padding back into whatever dominion they came from. Meat! Meat! I rushed towards the lifeless man, and dug into his hearty meat with glee, filling my mouth with flesh and hot blood.
Too lost in my hunger, I didn't fully acknowledge what I was devouring. The flesh was not a man, it was in fact a woman. The odious beasts had torn out clumps of her hair, leaving her half-bald. I had already pulled out one of her eyes from its sockets, but I could still see the contents of the other, free from my hunger. An empty, azure-blue eye glared back at me, judging me for the sin of being hungry. Flesh Is flesh, being human makes you no different. I took that eye too, then the skin from her neck, and the wall of meat behind it. Moving down to her fabrics, I went to rip the dress from her body, but then a queer scent assailed my nostrils. A baby. Had she been nursing? I could no longer determine her age, for a part of her face was now resting inside of my stomach. I buried my nose into the snow and found the same scent. It had always been there. How famished was I to not notice?
I pounced to wherever this baby was, trailing after the scent that fanned the flames of my ambitions. A baby! A free body! Out here!? What luck!