The warg licked its wounds in the forest. The sharpened sticks had penetrated its chest, causing the most intolerable itching sensation as they healed, close to the neck so that the warg could lick them clean. After being stuck the warg had been hunted by other creatures during the night, but its hatred of being tricked had fueled its fight and allowed it to kill and eat those that thought it was wounded prey.

It remembered the satisfaction in seeing the fear in the eyes of the blaze bear as it crippled each limb and started to eat it alive, the fear filled blood a delectable sauce to its tender flesh. Truly, the feeling of your fangs slicing through tendon as your ears hear the sweet howls of pain is the best!

Despite eating its fill, and crunching through the bones to suck out the marrow, the warg was eager to kill the meat bag that dared to injure it. Ever since it was a pup, “that which exists to kill”, loved the fear that it’s killer body created, and having something that could injure it and not be killed was antithetical to its existence.

“That which exists to kill” didn’t want to draw in the rest of its pack. It felt that it would lose much standing if the other wargs knew that it had been tricked by a meat bag. How could it possibly draw a female when it’s strength and intelligence was in question. Warg females ruled the pack, and only the most powerful, smartest males were chosen to further the next generation.

”That which exists to kill” watched the sun slowly set and started out from its lair. A rabbit, slow to return to it’s den turned into the wargs breakfast in one lightening fast chomp of it’s fearsome jaws. The warg slowly tracked the scent of the meat bag from its nest in the trees to the lake and back to its new den. The blood trail that occasionally dripped from Eric’s wounds was as good as freeway signs to “That which exists to kill”. The tree hugger wouldn't get away a second time. This was going to be easy.

The warg smelled the remains of the fire along with the smells of the rabbit meat. Disgusting.

The warg snuck closer, using bush and knolls to keep out of sight from above or below. It could see the marking on the tree bark where the meat bag had climbed. It also saw the disturbed dirt that indicated a pit trap. It felt insulted that the meat bag thought that it would fall for the same trick twice. The warg rapidly climbed a nearby tree, jumping from branch to branch like a jaguar. It could taste the blood in its mouth already.