To Kill the KitA wolf, a great off-black creature, stared at a small bundle of flesh and bone. It was dying and it cried for its life. The wolf locked silver orbs upon the thing; a newborn kit that smelt of milk and raw, primal terror. Tearing her eyes from the crying thing, the wolf (Rite was her name) turned her hunter's gaze to another pile of fur and flesh. This one was larger and the scent of it curled Rite's lips; blood and human and lead. Had Rite looked closer, she would have noticed a round, weeping wound in its head and milk in its belly.To Kill the Kit by CoalBlackWolf
'Mother, Mother', The kit cried.
With a frown, Rite snapped her jaws and the crying thing was silenced. The crimson that dripped was that of a predator and Rite found it innocent and tasteless. She spat at the unnaturalness of it all. The small body fell at her paws in a heap.
It squealed as it died.
The wolf snarled at swarming ravens that fought for a taste of predator's blood. They raved.
'Blood, blood for us. Wolf to feed u