It is a
blood fest but of the wrong kind. The viciousness on both sides is appalling.
Pieces of bodies are strewn all over the camp. The blood and gore leave you
speechless. Perhaps, it’s the blood itself that’s enjoying it all the most. It
appeared to dance with the air and play with the central bonfire, bursting into
flames as the occasional droplet kissed a spark.
It’s only
that no one dies. Body parts recall their owners. The gush of blood is never
ending. A circle of bite and tear, hit and break, anger and hatred that ate it
own tail. How many times can you rip off the same arms without starting to feel
foolish? Remus choked on all the blood and Agros’ face recomposed. But reality
didn’t stop the fighting. No matter how senseless it had become.
The beastly
creatures are so engrossed in trying to tear each other apart that no one hears
the approaching deep rumble of paws racing through the forest.
(To Be
Continued.)
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