Wolf Moon

Three Word Wednesday  CLXXXII Brazen, Hunger, and Nuzzle

She cradled his warmth, gently nuzzling his fur. He had fought the hunger, trying to brazen it out, until it became too much and the moon called him.  He tried to ignore the call of the smells coming from the barn, but the siren song of the tides and the smell of warm flesh pulled him like the ebb and flow of the waves.  There was a gunshot and now she sat weeping, blood on her hands.

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15 thoughts on “Wolf Moon

  1. lissa

    reminds of that story about the boy who had to shot his dead of the was diseased, there is sorrow but the action was necessary, nicely done

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