Hunger [open]

[Bronx]

The most primal drive. Bronx was always a little hungry; it was hard to avoid in this dead world when you were a domestic animal. The trash was getting old and rotten, and she knew she had to learn to catch her own food or she would never survive. Her only lucky break was the instincts of her breed; pit bulls tend to have a high prey drive, and although she had always kept that down because she was a "good dog" and had a family, she knew now she had to embrace those primal instincts and learn from them.

She was crouched in some cover behind a tree, completely still in the long grass and waiting. She could smell that there was a small mammal around her, but she wasn't sure what it was. Not wanting to frighten it off, Bronx waited until it finally crept into view. A rabbit. It was upwind from her, so couldn't smell the predator that lurked, but it was not stupid either. Sensing the danger of approaching long grass that was downwind, it stayed far enough away from her hiding place that she would have to break cover and it would have a lot of time to get back to its hole.

So, she played the game of patience. She waited a long time, until the rabbit was finally under a spell of false security. The way it moved was different; more languidly and unhurried than before, and lifting its head to scent the air less often. Finally, when its head turned to look in the other direction for just a second, she broke cover and lunged towards it, cutting it off from its hole. It zigzagged away immediately, but had the misfortune of stumbling on some loose rocks atop the soil. It barely broke stride, but it was enough for Bronx to make a well-placed leap and land on its back.

She had food for now, but Bronx knew she had gotten lucky. She was going to have to try harder next time, and keep working harder. Life was under her control, now, and she had to keep herself going. She had to.