The forest floor looked like a slaughterhouse's reject pile. Wolf corpses lay scattered across blood-soaked moss, their fur matted with gore and pine needles. As , I surveyed my "dinner table" with the clinical interest of a food critic at a particularly messy establishment.
My talons – each the size of a butcher's knife and twice as sharp – clicked against a protruding rib cage. The sound echoed through the ancient forest, sending a few brave scavengers scurrying back into the shadows. Smart move, really. The last thing they needed was to become an unexpected addition to my tasting menu.
"Let's see what wolf tartare has to offer," I mused, tearing into the first carcass with surgical precision. The meat was surprisingly tender, definitely an upgrade from my usual fish diet. Who knew that moving up the food chain would improve the cuisine so dramatically? Each bite was a revelation – dense muscle tissue packed with proteins, essential nutrients, and just a hint of terror. The fear really brings out the flavor.
{Bioenergy: +10}
The eastern border of my territory served as my dining room, decorated with centuries-old pine trees that creaked like arthritic joints in the wind. Moss-covered boulders dotted the landscape like nature's dining chairs, while fallen logs created convenient partitions between what I liked to think of as my "courses." The air hung heavy with the metallic scent of blood and the earthy decay of the forest floor.
A flash of auburn caught my enhanced vision – a fox, obviously not the sharpest predator in the forest, trying to steal from my leftovers. Its movements were almost beautiful, paws silent against the forest debris, muscles coiled like springs under that perfectly camouflaged coat. All that evolutionary perfection, rendered completely useless against my superior biology.
My strike was poetry in motion. One moment the fox was reaching for a scrap of wolf meat; the next, its skull was collapsing under my talons like an overripe fruit. The crunch echoed through the trees, probably giving some unfortunate woodland creatures PTSD.
"Thanks for the delivery service," I thought, adding the fresh fox carcass to my growing collection. "Though your timing could use some work."
Transporting the bodies became an exercise in aerial efficiency. Each flight was carefully calculated – wing angle adjusted for maximum lift, trajectory plotted to minimize energy loss. I was essentially getting better in flying. By mid-afternoon, I'd created what could only be described as a macabre pantry near my nest. Martha Stewart would have been horrified. I was rather proud.
The meditation that followed was less about finding inner peace and more about processing my all-you-can-eat buffet. White mana particles danced around me like drunk fireflies, responding to my concentration. Very aesthetic, if you ignored the blood-soaked feathers and scattered bone fragments.
It seems my efficiency improved, before I could only absorb one particle. Now I can absorb two.
{Bioenergy: +1}
{Bioenergy: +1}
The wolf and fox corpses kept giving, like the gifts that kept on giving – if gifts were made of meat and nightmare fuel.
{Bioenergy: +10} (wolf corpse)
{Bioenergy: +7} (fox corpse)
After finishing the last of my meals, the scar faced wolf leader.
{Bioenergy: +12}
It seems the stronger a creature, the more bioenergy I would get?.
Getting 39 Bioenergy, just from one drive to the western territory gave me this much. So being a little greedy I went there again.
Then came the humans. Ten college students who'd apparently skipped the "How Not to Die in Wolf Territory" seminar. They faced off against ten wolves in what looked like the world's worst field trip gone wrong. Two of them clutched pistols like security blankets, their hands shaking enough to register on the Richter scale.
From my perch a mile away, I watched the unfolding disaster with morbid fascination. Until I remembered my quest, to gain fame points. If I saved these humans, and they spread the word, woudn't I naturally gain fame points, I'm a genius alright. Just then I saw white particles near one of the human females, no more particularly from the silver leafed plant she was holding.
***
Sarah Martinez, looking like she'd rather be anywhere else, held a silver-leafed plant, which was a rare plant that she was going to submit to the university research lab.
Jake Reynolds, beside her, pointed his pistol with all the confidence of a toddler holding chopsticks.
Emily Chen, who was probably regretting not choosing accounting as her major, had turned a shade of white that would make a ghost feel colorful.
The armed students – Jake and Derek "I definitely lift" Thompson – opened fire. Seven wolves dropped in quick succession, painting the forest floor in splashes of red that would make Jackson Pollock proud. Then came that beautiful click of empty chambers – nature's way of saying "surprise!"
Two wolves remained, and they weren't the ones who'd failed basic math. Their eyes gleamed with predatory intelligence, muscles tensed for the kill.
My descent was both beautiful and terrifying – a perfect combination of aerodynamics and approaching death. The students' faces froze in expressions that belonged in a renaissance painting of the apocalypse.
"Time to earn some five-star reviews," I thought, snatching one wolf mid-lunge. The trip up was quick; the trip down was quicker. The wolf's impact created a crater that would keep geology students busy for weeks. The remaining wolf had just enough time to reconsider its life choices before my talons introduced themselves to its central nervous system.
I landed before my audience, blood-streaked and magnificent. Jake muttered something about extinct Haast Eagles, his scientific mind probably short-circuiting. Emily looked like she was trying to calculate my impossible existence using geological formulae. Derek reached for a hunting knife, which was adorably optimistic.
Sarah stood frozen, still clutching her mysteriously rare plant. The mana signature it emitted was intriguing – like a beacon of in this forest of chaos.
We stared at each other – the impossible eagle and the shell-shocked students. Just another day of playing the hero, though I doubted any of them would be leaving five-star reviews.
Fame, as they say, is a fickle friend. But at least it comes with an all-you-can-eat buffet, with 10 of these wolves.