I didn’t hesitate after being told that we had free reign of our hunts today. With another whistle and a wave of my hand, we were off into the shallows of the marsh, where we would begin the hunt. This was a true hunt, even with the adult keelish standing every fifty feet or so, ringing the proposed hunting area just close enough that one would always be visible at the edge of our vision. I was about to push us forward in locating then hunting, but a thought crossed my mind.

Thinking about it, there was a truly intelligent keelish at the head of this swarm. They had built systems that I had never heard of, at least when relating to keelish–grown adults policing the spawnlings from killing each other, providing a steady scaling of progress until they could be trusted to provide for themselves, encouraging the development of packs, or individual squads that would answer to the leaders of the swarm… It was intelligence that bordered on a human’s, if not truly matched it. I’d never heard of any keelish that could be called intelligent, they were always just about as “intelligent” as a typical wolfstag, smart enough to know how to hunt as a pack, and maybe communicate a little between themselves.

The human part of me that wanted to cower in fear of an intelligent swarm was quickly beaten down by the ever louder, ever more persuasive, ever stronger bestial side of me. I could and would rise to the top of the swarm, and use that to take down Viilor… if possible. If not, I would raise it ever higher, ever stronger, ever more dangerous until High Speakers in their dozens couldn’t stop us. That was currently an impossibility, I knew. I’d only been killed by the keelish because of my surprise and injury. Without both, I could have quickly Windspoken my way into escape, or at least survival, at which point I could have healed myself with my Wavespeaking. If my mother had been there…

That was sobering. Would I have to kill my mother? Could I? She wouldn’t know who I was, and would have no compunctions regarding my swift destruction. Hells below, she probably would carry a grudge, given what had killed me. And I was far from capable of facing “The Stone” when I’d been human and had nearly two dozen summers of experience…

First steps first, the hunt. We needed to kill–I needed to kill three creatures today. I wasn’t willing to allow another night to pass without evolution, and I was so close I could nearly taste it. With a low whistle, my pack and I began to stalk forward into the shallow water. We were light enough not to sink into the mud below, and I switched my perception back to that which had served me in the underground. After all, the frogs were well camouflaged, but they had nothing like a beralt to protect their bodily heat from escaping.

Before long, the first of the Toothy Bullfrogs was in sight, hunkered down in the mud, just his eyes visible above the water. We’d never hunted anywhere other than in the sandy pits of the “arena”, and I wasn’t sure how we would do on this first hunt. There had never been any problem aside from the first time when Took was bitten, and while that had left a pattern of scabs down her back, it was far from serious. This prey, however, was in its home turf, and would have more options than simply hopping away.

Nonetheless, our approach was the same as always–Oncli and Foire to the back leg, Took, Treel, and Vefir to the front, and myself to deal the final blow. We were significantly larger than we had been at our first hunt, and while we had only barely outweighed the first frog we’d hunted, Took and myself alone now could mostly hold one down while in the arena.

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With a click of my tongue, Oncli and Foire rushed forward to seize on the back leg of the frog. They lunged in, jaws snapping hard, to crunch down and immobilize–the frog that had kicked both legs and swam off startlingly quickly. It had been facing towards me, so it darted in my direction, and without thinking, I lunged forward and tried to sink my own jaws into the frog, anywhere to slow it down. It also evaded me, and before any other member of the pack could respond, it was off into the deeper water. Took went to chase it down, but I called out loud enough that she stopped and returned.

All six of us were enraged at the prey’s evasion. It croaked as it went out of reach, clearly mocking us. With a barely repressed snarl, I whipped around to find our next possible prey.

…

The reddened skies continued to darken as we failed one hunt after another. I only realized that once I’d consciously looked to the skies and “switched” my perception. It had been at least an hour, and all six of us had been soaked in mud and our own frustrations. We all were waspish with each other, snapping, hissing, and enraged as our bellies were ever more empty.

Regardless of the success of the hunts, though, we had made progress. Instead of two groups, we now split into three loose pairs, myself and Vefir, Oncli and Foire, Took and Treel, each pair with one of us three largest members of the pack. That way, as we approached from three directions at the same time, ideally one of the heaviest of us would be able to latch on and slow the stars forsaken bastard amphibian enough for the others to come in and finish it off. We didn’t need finesse, we were just desperate for anything that would allow us to just to catch the slimy things.

As the light faded and the warmth began to be leached from our bodies, we began another hunt. Regardless of if it was night, we hadn’t been awake for that long, and we needed vengeance on these mere prey animals that dared to make a mockery of us.

Yet another Toothy Bullfrog lay in the shallow water, no doubt enjoying the warmer location than the deeper, cooler water. As quietly as we could, slowly wading through the marsh, we approached until we each were about five feet away. We’d learned that that was about as close as you could get before the frogs would bolt. Looking at each other, I flared my frills in a count of one… two… THREE!

All six of us charged in, jaws agape and ready to latch onto the first thing that came close. The frog began to swim as fast as he could, directly forward… within my reach. I lunged forward, missing his body, but catching one of its forelegs. That was enough. It was moving fast enough with enough momentum that it initially dragged me off my feet, but I quickly was able to find purchase on the muddy bottom of the swamp. It would NOT escape me as the others had.

I gnashed my jaws together, the wondrous taste of blood beginning to coat my tongue, and I noted the [System]’s notification of the activation of [Bloodlust]. Suddenly, my goal wasn’t to slow the prey. It was to cause it to suffer. These lowly frogs would challenge my ability to feed? To lead? To SURVIVE? Never. I crushed my jaw as hard as I could, and with a crunch, the bone gave way while the frog croaked in what I could assume to be agony.

With a grind of my jaws, the arm of the Toothy Bullfrog below its elbow was gone, and with a quick swallow, it was down my throat as I lunged forward, digging my jaws deeper into the side of the prey. I felt the flesh give way as I tunneled my bite ever deeper into the chest cavity of my prey, its lifeblood coating my face. It was glorious. I punched my sharp claws into my prey, severing tendon and meat alike as I inflicted agony and terror without giving the final rest of death.

Yes, this was it. I knew that it was. This… was the meaning of life, regardless of what the weak part of me wanted to think otherwise.