Jezzalyn sat in the center of the forest listening intently to her surroundings. The wind blew lightly making her skin crawl, insects rustled in the leaved beneath her, the trees whispered the secrets of past lives that were within them, and animals scurried for cover from the new hunter. Suddenly the wind picked up and the scent of blood was in the air. Jezzalyn’s ears perked up slightly and her nostrils flared as she let the delicious scent fill her whole being. A pulse beat her sensitive ear drums lightly, luring her to indulge in a simple pleasure.
Instantly she turned in to nothing but a shadow skirting across the forest, leaves rustled and twigs cracked at every sign on for her unnoticed footfalls. The pulse quickened and its host realized what was to come, the scent became thicker, her hunger became stronger. Her teeth were fully extended now as the pulse called to her louder than ever, finally her teeth met with flesh and a thick liquid poured bountifully on to her tongue and down her throat.
Jezzalyn moaned in satisfaction of finally receiving the sustenance she truly needed, she drank until the pulse stopped and looked upon her prey. The blank lifeless eyes of a doe with a broken leg looked back at her. “Thank you,” she whispered and proceeded to dig its final resting place.