Black Thorn Downs Perfect didn't feel so perfect

Cuan’s travels had led him to a slope dotted with shiny, dark berries – but it wasn’t the clusters of berries the tawny lone male was stalking. Berries were far too easy and Cuan would only turn to them for sustenance in a real pinch.

The tips of the grasses tickled Cuan’s hocks as he bent into a crouch. His honeyed eyes were sharp and bright with eagerness. Despite the weeks of travel wearing on him, Cuan was looking forward to hunting. True, he could only take down smaller creatures – for now – but smaller often meant faster, with sharper turns and more hidey holes to disappear into. Cuan’s mood was good enough that he was up for the challenge.

He had picked out a scrap of grey-brown from amongst the green, topped by black-rimmed ears. There was no mistaking the hare – and Cuan had to be quick, before the same became true of his own much larger shape. His tongue flicked out to wet his nose and lips.

The hare’s head lifted and Cuan took off, holding himself as low as he could whilst still moving forward. He was quick, but the hare was quicker. Its bounding hops threatened to find it safe within the blackberry bushes if Cuan didn’t take a different path. He swerved, and the grasses almost tore beneath his paws. There was still enough open land ahead that Cuan was able to out-manoeuvre the hare.

And, finally, blood wet his lips, as dark and sweet for a hungry loner as any berry. Happy with his kill, the lone male retreated to the shade of the bushes to lick his chops and tuck into a long-awaited meal. There was still an emptiness in him, but at least it wouldn't reside in his belly for a while.