i stand with her.
she empties her stomach into the bushes.
the smell of blood and the sound of flesh tearing,
it was to much for her.
i nuzzle her softly.
she retches.
i can smell the blood on her.
it puts water in my mouth.
now, she straightens.
the sickness has passed.
her face is pale and covered in tears.
her clothes are ruined by blood.
she buries her face in my fur as she cries.
❄️
YOU ARE READING
Prince of Wolves
Short Storyi hear them howl, for them. for me. for flesh. for blood. and i wonder, i wonder if i'm supposed to feel so empty, so cold. ❄️ #674 in short story - july/august 2017 #216 in my youth - august 2018 -completed
