[open] you're going home, you're rag and bone; any

[sochi]

there is a swelling storm and I'm caught up in the middle of it all
and it takes control of the person that I thought I was

This hunt is different than it has ever been before.

There’s an electricity running through her, lacing in her veins and drawing er further and further out into the forest. She has never hunted before with another. She’s never felt the camaraderie that’s born between a shared purpose, the way that you can communicate without language. They slow together and Sochi tilts her head at the wolf’s small huff. Her pink nose twitches and she quietly chuffs in return.

Why had she ever resisted this?

Sochi crouches down, her muscles buzzing with anticipation as she zeroes in on the stag. She has never gone after something this large before, never dared. She’d always stuck to smaller game. Not necessarily because she wasn’t capable of felling something this large, but rather because she couldn’t bear the guilt of it. She assuaged her guilt by going after smaller prey, feating on the bones of rabbits and squirrels, her predator’s stomach never quite satiated. Always in the middle of the night. Always alone.

Until now.

She leaps forward, powerful and quick, her pace quickly eating up the ground. The deer lift their head and sniff, freezing when they finally pick up the scent of both tiger and wolf. Immediately, they turn and begin to run away, their thin legs graceful and quick—but Sochi is fast and she is hungry. She cuts off the herd at the right angle, pushing off the forest ground to launch herself into the air, paws outstretched.

With a throaty growl, she latches onto the stag, teeth gripping onto its neck.

She is blind to the hunger that drives her. She acts entirely on instinct, grappling with the deer as he fights, as Daye fights with her. He writhes and she twists to get a better grip, back legs fighting to give her the advantage as she continues to snap out, getting purchase wherever she can. The blood flows thick and hot into her mouth as she finally snaps down and she shakes her head as the stag’s struggles slow. Something else erupts in her chest when she glances over the slack body to the wolf, but exactly what, she can’t say.

sochi

it comes and goes in waves; it always does, it always does
we watch as our young hearts fade into the flood, into the flood