<i>Food.<br/>
</i><br/>The wolf sniffed along the path, hunting for the scent of prey.  Any prey would do; she was hungry.<br/><br/><i>Food.<br/>
</i><br/>Old scents dashed across the trail, smelling like spices for the coming breakfast she hunted.<br/><br/><i>Food?<br/>
</i><br/>A fresher scent lingered nearby, something alive, something close, something warm and full of meat.<br/><br/><i>FOOD!<br/>
</i><br/>The wolf dashed after the scent, dodging rocks and trees, bursting through the brush.  She pounced on a rabbit, which cleanly dodged her attack.  The chase was on, and the rabbit was not going to win.  The wolf allowed her vision to focus on the rabbit, but also secondarily take in her surroundings.  The rabbit was heading for a hole, but taking the long way around, trying to lose her and keep her from finding the nest.  The wolf took the shorter way, leaping over a rock, blocking the rabbit's path, and the rabbit hopped directly into her open and waiting mouth.  The nest didn't matter, only breakfast.  The wolf bit down hard, forcing a terrified squeak from the rabbit.  She shook the dying thing her her mouth hard, snapping its fragile neck and killing it.<br/><br/><i>Food.<br/>
</i><br/>The wolf carried the rabbit back toward the stream, hiding in the brush to avoid being spotted, and tore a hearty chunk from the hide of the rabbit.  The hot meat gushed the wonderful, equally hot blood into her mouth.  Satisfied with her kill, she allowed herself to fall into the sensation of breakfast.  The blood pulsed from the body, covering her forelegs and paws, coating her mouth, but she didn't care.  Meat lay in her grasp.<br/><br/>As she finished her meal, the wolf stood and walked slowly down to the stream, dipping her head down to lap up a drink.  The water sloshed around her tongue, some of it dribbling back out of her mouth to rinse away some of the drying blood on her face.  She heard a noise, but ignored it, assuming it was more game that should fear her.  A man stepped into view, proving her wrong, and her head shot up.  Man was danger.  Man was destruction.  Man was bad.  She watched vigilantly as it walked by, its strange fur stiff, its body language giving her mixed signals.  She watched the man wander away toward the wooden den she liked.<br/><br/><i>Invader!<br/>
</i><br/>She dipped her head down and followed after him, letting his scent fill her nose and tingle in the back of her throat.  She watched him from a distance, moving awkwardly on his two legs.  He found her den, and she resisted the urge to growl.  This was<i>her</i>territory.  He was trying to take it from her.  She stalked him, her body stiff, as he opened the cover of the mouth of the den.  She was within sight, and she wanted him to know that his encroachment into her territory was unacceptable.  She stood stiffly and growled as he stood int he mouth of her den.  She watched him warily, ready to pounce when the moment was right, circling slowly to ensure he was alone, catching scents around her.