• Her breath clouded in the frosty air ,rising in panicked bursts. The blade hovered above her, black as midnight , cold and unforgiving. She thought breifly over her life, memories of her pups swimming behind her eyes. Would they survive without her? What would happen to them?
    Taking a step backwards, she brushed up against a tall hedge, trapped...

    The hunter struck and killed the young female fox with a glancing blow. Deftly removing the pelt to be dried and sold for scarves and accesories, he placed the pelt in his sack , along with his other kills of the night, he tossed the corpse to the baying dogs, as a reward for searching her out.



    Do you still think hunting is right?