He killed your son.
He killed your son and is miles away.
Miles into the frost lacquered trees.
Leaving the damage he had done to die.
But you're not gonna make it that easy.
Anything else would’ve left to save itself, but you’re not any of those things.
And what did this was built to waste, to take what it will not use.
If your child had been stripped of his flesh and discarded only then, you would feel far more comfort then finding him so intact.
You put your paw on his snout, the warmth escaping to your toes.
Your head flies up as you suck in the piercing air.
A single, petrified note escapes your jaws, blaring into the stars.
Long after the sound has left, you bare your teeth to the sky, to the world that has betrayed you.
Or so you thought.
From the darkness ahead, a strange figure springs out of into the moonlight, shaken and stunned.
Only its forest painted legs touch the ground.
The body of the creature is wrapped in leaves and it carries a long grey stick as straight as the horizon.
It lifts to point it at your head and you understand.
Without a second passing, your body sails through the air towards him when a toothlike shard pierces your side.
His body crashes to the ground and you sink into his neck.
With a last act a of strength, he throws you off only to find the ground soaked in himself.
Almost effortlessly, he tumbles to his side.
Leaving a trail coming from your stomach, you drag yourself over to him and put your head on his chest.
For it is not him to blame but his people.
And he has died as what he was meant to be, as you were meant to be.
An animal.

This is an original work
Joshua Mortenson