Snippet #1581147

Tyson caught the scent of prey and stopped running. When he stopped he skidded on the dirt floor and sent some loose rocks flying. His ears went up and he turned his eyes towards the direction of his prey. It seemed as though it were an elk. Tyson crouched low to the ground and followed it silently. He stepped slowly and kept his gaze focused on the elk as he inched closer. He could nearly taste it in his jaws. About four feet away from it, his paw went down on a small twig and snapped it in half. The elk’s head went up from where it had been grazing and ran wildly, zigzagging through the forest. Tyson growled in annoyance before running after it.

Tyson was fast. He was faster than most ordinary animals, as were generally all werewolves. It took him a matter of seconds to catch up to the unfortunate animal. He pushed off the ground with his hind legs and leaped onto its back, sinking his fangs into its neck. He felt the elk panic underneath him before he dug his fangs in deeper. This time the elk did not move. It sank to the ground beneath him. Tyson wagged his tail childishly. He immediately started on his meal.

The smell of blood, though it was animal and not human, reminded him of earlier at the farm. He thought that the vampire must wield some power. Tyson thought of the werewolf who had gone up to him. He thought that it was slightly foolish to approach such a creature. But the Unnatural numbers were dwindling, and he didn’t think that the two of them would do anything stupid. Tyson’s mind went back on the meal before him.