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    Predator and prey. It was a relationship as old as time itself, really. The big, bad wolf had always hunted the little piggy. The status quo had never once been interrupted, and in a world such as this one, everything was fair game. Hunt or be hunted—that was the law of the land, and growing up, that became a fundamental facet of life.

    Nevertheless, killing was not Alaric's strong suit. He felt a small pang every time he caught a mouse scurrying about in the underbrush. It reminded him of when he was young, when his father had died at the paws of a canine gone feral. He always wondered about whether his prey had a family of their own, and whether said family was expecting their father or mother or child to make it home that day. Hell, Alaric was studying medicine of all things; his goal was to save lives, not end them. He always had to remind himself that these creatures were not of a higher intelligence and that this was simply the way the world worked.

    That also happened to be the reason that Alaric found himself in the marsh that day. Prey tended to make themselves abundant there, especially mice who made use of the darkness to traverse around while avoiding being made into a meal. Unfortunately for mice, though, cats tended to have great vision in the dark, and Alaric was feeling quite peckish.

    His hunt for a meal was proving to be unsuccessful, though. Prey appeared to be making themselves scarce on this particular day, and their scents were masqueraded by the swamp's stink. Despite that, one particular scent somehow broke the barrier and drifted into his nose. He recognized it immediately as Caustic, whose exhaled noxious gas had grown quite familiar to Alaric.

    With piqued interest, the tabby followed the source of the scent, eventually coming upon the wolf in a small clearing. A rabbit was pinned under the doctor's paw, seemingly deceased. He regarded the scene with a sort of morbid curiosity. "What are you doing?" said Alaric, who decided to speak after a moment of consideration.

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    If there was one thing that Alaric was not, it was stupid. That was something that he prided himself on. Perhaps he wasn't the most physically gifted feline, but he was not lacking in any sense when it came to intellect and perception. The tabby knows a lie when he hears one. And as for Caustic? Alaric has a feeling that the wolf is not telling the truth. Besides, Alaric had seen Caustic on more than one occasion with some sort of limp animal in his maw, whether it be a raccoon, a rabbit, or anything in between.

    "Interesting way to kill your prey, Dr. Caustic," the tabby spoke. His tone was flat and monotonous, completely devoid of any suggestion of accusation. However, for anyone with an above-average intelligence who was capable of reading between the lines, such as Caustic, it would be clear that there was a underlying message behind his speech. "There are much more efficient ways to dispose of a meal." This, too, was not outwardly suggestive of anything.

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    "I'm rather fond of asphyxiation." The words caused an intense feeling of discomfort to seize Alaric. It was a heavy feeling, one that he was decidedly not rather fond of. This emotion did not communicate itself in any way physically, and as such would be undetectable to anyone but himself. "Perhaps," the feline responded monotonously, unsettled as he watched the wolf examine the rabbit for what he could only assume were imperfections.

    The Wolf? Without knowing Caustic's past, the tabby could only guess as to what the wolf meant by his words. Postulating on it led him to one conclusion: the Wolf was the feral instinct felt by many animals. It was only natural that he would feel this; they, along with the group in which they lived, were civilized creatures, but sometimes animal instinct broke through. A certain craving to hunt and to kill that most had become adept at pushing down. Alaric was one of those. He would not question Caustic.

      "I had not given it any thought," Alaric finally responds to Caustic's question, his cold blue gaze never once leaving the wolf. The radiation was a fact of life on this island. He had come to accept it a long time ago. "I suppose it is possible, yes. It is apparently irradiated enough to cause mutations. It's not something that we can change, though."

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    Ever since his father had died, Alaric hadn't let himself experience emotion. It was his overconfidence that beckoned him to venture outside and subsequently cause his father's death. It was his belief that his emotions only hurt himself and those around him, and if he hid them away then he and everyone around him would be better off. Unlike the wolf before him, though, a certain aura of empathy permeated Alaric, made even more apparent by his great interest in the field of medicine. He wanted to prevent anything from happening to anyone like what had happened to his father. If he could keep a family whole again, then it was completely worth it.

    "Truthfully, Dr. Caustic, I had not given it any thought," Alaric began after a moment's contemplation. He had not given much thought to the finer points of killing prey besides the fact that he felt no guilt from it because he believed them to be of a lesser intelligence. After all, they could not speak. "It is possible, I suppose, but what of the animals that are dumped here and can speak immediately? Do you suppose that there are vast quantities of radiation beyond this place that could cause someone to speak, and that they have already been irradiated before they get here?"

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    He chose not to respond to the wolf's comment, watching instead as the male stifled a cough and wiped blood from his chest. An uncomfortable feeling settled in his stomach, although he wasn't quite sure why; he knew—or hoped, at least—that Caustic wouldn't do anything to harm him, or else the wolf would risk being exiled. He doubt that the doctor wanted that, but he wasn't too sure.

    Alaric simply nodded in response to Caustic, although whether or not the larger male noticed was unknown to Alaric. He did not rush to catch up as the wolf began to walk, instead preferring to lag behind a bit so that he may keep an eye on the male. "Mm. Maybe." He looked to the satchel on Caustic's back and wondered briefly about what exactly Caustic was going to be doing with his prey, and although he had asked earlier, he supposed that it wouldn't hurt to ask him again. "Dr. Caustic, what are you planning on doing with that rabbit?" He was a bit more forthright this time than he had been earlier.