Prophecy of the Beast

Beasts

Pain rips through her body.  Around her pack mates all writhe on the ground.  The pain was less this time than the last and will less again next time.  As the pain abates she and her pack mates raise their heads and offer a howl to the rising blood moon.  The power and freedom it brought them was heady.  Their gratitude was released in their exclamation.  A chuff and bark from the alpha brought the howl to an abrupt end.  It was time, time to run, time to hunt.

With the moon rising the old farmer was already pushing his mules harder than he should.  As the eerie sound came drifting out of the mountains behind him reason flew.  As quickly as he could manage he cut a mule free from the harness and climbed on.  As fast as the mule could carry him he rushed for his home and his safe hold.  The mule was giving it its feeble all and still the old man brought the crop down demanding more.    The old farmer knew that the mule must go faster, the beasts were coming. 

The wind rushed through her fur as she bound down the mountain toward the trail.  Her nose moved of its own accord taking in the scents on that breeze.  It felt good to run, exciting, and free.  Her pack mates beside her exuded the same exultation.  They all fed the frenzy as one lost his composure and another howl burst forth. He was quickly silenced by the alpha but all felt the thrill.  As her paws touched down on the trail that lead to the farm lands her excitement was redoubled.  Soon it would be time to hunt. 

The old farmer could see his house on the hill in the distance.  A surge of hope went through him quickly dispelled as the mule below him collapsed.  He was thrown clear but landed hard.  In the haze the dyeing cries of the mule seemed distant.  He wasn't sure how much time had passed before he managed to clear his head and climb to his feet.  He did know he had to move, to run.  He had to get to safe hold the Beasts were coming.

Around the last bend and before her lay the farm lands.  The pack surged from the rocks and took off at full sprint.  A smell on the wind had them shifting the course.  The sweet smell of panic and fear drove them faster.  At a command from the alpha they spread out searching for the physical trail of the prey they could all smell on the wind.  She was the fastest and pushed forward of the rest hoping to be the first that crossed the trail.  It would be her to call the hunt.

She was on the wrong side.  Her pack mate furthest from her let out a bay that could only mean one thing.  With the first bay the hunting frenzy was on and as many had to skid around to race after their packmate another scent caught her focus.  She tried to get a solid scent but the power of the frenzy over came her and soon she was chasing after her pack.  The hunt beckoned.

The mule had tried dragging the cart alone but at the baying sound went into a panic trying to break away from its burden.  The Pack came over the hill and descended on the panicked creature.  In the frenzy of the kill blood flew splashing the first few to the mule.  As the mule lay dead those late to the kill rolled in the blood and gore strewn across the wheat. She prowled the edges of the frolic dissatisfied with the meager kill. A moment of interest nagged at the edge of instinct but had been lost in the frenzy.

The old farmer was close enough to see the outline of his home when the sounds of the beasts reached him.  His feeble body was already failing him but the sounds brought the renewed energy of panic.  His body was coated in the sweat of labor and panic and as he crested the next little hill the wind brought chills.  He realized his mistake as he started down the hill.  The sounds of the hunt had come from behind him, downwind of him.  He berated himself for not staying in the lows and out of the wind. 

'You old fool," he cursed himself, "You are old enough to know better."

At the edge of the after math her nose wasn't full of blood and offal like the rest.  The gust of wind carried the scent to her.  She whined as she stuck her nose in the wind smelling better prey.  The alpha chuffed getting the pack in line as he bumped her forward.  It was a simple command to lead and for the others to follow.  Excitement filled her, she would lead this hunt.  pushed onward by the smell of prey in her nose and her pack behind her she ran.  Running nose first into the wind her preys scent was strong.  She would find her prey. 

She was the first to cross the trail.  Instead of baying out and calling the hunt she chuffed and began running with her nose to the ground.  She wanted the fear to be fresh and strong in the blood when it gushed into her mount.  They passed the spent mule without so much as a second sniff.  It wasn't until she found the place where panic accented the fear and sweat that she finally called the hunt.  Her bay was long and clear and quickly joined by her pack.  She was already in front and she was faster than the others.  She would have this kill. 

The old man heard the baying behind him and ran as best as he was able.  Fear and adrenaline had him running faster than he had in a decade.  He was at the base of the hill that his home and safe hold sat upon.  He still wasn't sure he would be fast enough.  As he clambered up the hill he would look over his shoulder every few breaths.  The baying continued to grow louder, coming closer.  When he reached the halfway point and still didn't see any sign of his dogged pursuers he allowed himself a glimmer of hope.  The hope died quickly when he looked over his shoulder and saw the Beasts cresting the hill behind him. 

Bigger than a man the first creature to appear stopped and stood on its hind legs.  Its howl rent the air as it declared its presence and intent.  In the distance between them the old man thought how the beast could be mistaken for a large man.  When it dropped down on all fours and tore down the hill in pursuit the comparison ended.  He didn't watch the rest of the pack crest the hill.  He was redoubling his efforts to reach safety.  He was sure that what chased him was a mix between demon and wolf.  He ran for the sake of his very soul.

Before her the prey ran, stumbling up the hill across the short valley.  In the height of frenzy, drooling and slavering in her excitement, she raced toward her goal.  Moving with unnatural speed her prey hadn't even begun to crest his hill by the time she started her climb.  She could hear the prey now as it labored for breath and groaned with each unsteady step.  Something was off about the scent.  There was fear and panic in the air but there was also something else.  It was the scent a rabbit had when it was in leaping length of its hole.  The prey was close to its hole, she had to move faster.