04-02-2020, 09:40 PM
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.
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.
♔ don't do love, don't do friends