Fleas was too small, too shy, and too cowardly. But something urged her to be with him. It could be pity, a certain maternal spirit, or even a way of stalking prey, like playing with a gazelle for a while until you get bored and kill it. She wasn't sure.
"We shouldn't go too far."
"My mother is old, her pace is brisk, and her spirit is insufficient. Even with your little paws, we'll reach the tribe in no time. Look."
She bent down and sniffed. Yes, it was a smell track. She followed it to the soft earth where the footprints were visible. Tracks of a juicy hare. Since she had eaten the heart, she felt her instincts sharpen. She didn't know if it was the ritual or nature, but now she felt like a hunter. Of course, all hyaenids killed to survive. But the fact that she had killed another rational being was... different. Pleasant on one hand, yes, but on the other hand she felt a strange bitterness that refused to leave her palate.
"Crouch down."
He obeyed.
"Do you smell it?"
He closed his eyes.
"Yes, yes, I smell it."
"Come on, Fleas, follow the scent."
The little one, nose to the ground, crawled on all fours to the burrow. Suddenly the animal ran away. He followed, but the hare was much faster. Kkelea joined the chase. At first she ran on his hind legs, but she couldn't catch up, so she imitated Fleas. She could feel her speed increasing. She immediately overtook him and jumped on the rabbit, grabbing its ears with her teeth and throwing it to the little one.
"Catch it."
It eluded him at first, but he soon caught it. For the first time he looked happy. He picked up the rabbit that was wriggling in his claws and handed it to her. She shook her head.
"It's yours," Kkelea said.
He looked at the animal with a certain pity. For a moment she doubted he would have the courage, but he dared to sink his teeth into its neck. The hare screamed in agony and stopped moving. Then he tore off a piece and began to chew. Tears of joy welled up in his eyes.
"It is very tasty."
She ruffled her fur and bared her teeth. The smell made her want to possess the flesh, but she held herself back. Fleas split the creature in two and gave her half. Unbeknownst to them, they were doing something that had never been done before: sharing food.
Happy moments are so fleeting that you never know you're experiencing them until, bathed in the poison of tragedy, you remember them wistfully.
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Fleas - Songs of the Gnolls I
FantasyIn the middle of the savannah lives a tribe of hyaenids, men half hyena, and what some humans of the Seasonal Continent call gnolls. A small cub, victim of constant mistreatment, sleeps amidst nightmares and lives without desire. Until he meets the...