Tink and I spent a quiet night at the house, each with our own thoughts. We went out on patrol twice, just to make sure. The woods were still quiet at first light.
"Big day, maybe we should start it off with a hunt."
I realized that maybe what had happened at Jason's last night was partly because I hadn't been paying close enough attention to my feeding routine. "Sounds like a good idea."
"We'll keep it close, maybe move south."
It didn't take long before we found a small herd. We moved purposely, silently and in minutes we had both made our kill. I attacked my doe near a small stream, a trickle really, and drained her quickly. As I sat back, I spotted my grotesque, blood-stained reflection in the still water along the bank. I stared down disgustedly at my blood-soaked hands. This was my truth—no matter how much I denied it—I was not human. I was a monster.