I suppose there are times where I must simply let go; to free myself from these chains, to surrender to instinct - to remind myself that I am, in fact, alive.

I suppose I am thankful that you’ve had a bit too much sugar today; we tear up the forest, you and I – never stopping for a single spot of rest. My eyes grasp the racing form in front of me that is you, brown sprinkled in white; you are an art form in motion, and I chase and I chase. I follow because I want to be with you – I chase because I want to hunt you, if only figuratively. I would never hurt you; you are far too precious to me – instinct can’t completely smother this heart of mine, now throbbing from the adrenaline, the lust, igniting my blood.

Don’t get the wrong idea; it is not you, per say, that I lust for. This is a lust born from a primal instinct; the lust for the thrill of chasing, reaching, grasping something. My blood is torrid in my veins, and I feel as if my body is searing with heat. I wonder if you feel the same; I can see the beads of sweat desperately clinging to your coat, only to fall as the wind strikes without mercy. I can see the way your muscles are rippling just under the skin; I can hear the reverberating in your chest as your breath escapes from your maws.

I can feel my lungs swelling and attenuating as I keep chasing, keep hunting. My heart is pulsating in my chest; it feels as if it’s about to burst from its cage. My tongue has but abandoned its spot tucked away in my mouth, choosing instead to hang out, trying to taste the air.

I once dreamt of this, you know. Though the one I chased was…different. His coat was glorious silver, bands of white constricting his pelt. The skull, the massive grey tines…so ethereal and ghost-like; he was beautiful. Our eyes met, and my heart throbbed, longing, and my blood raced. My lust burst to life, and I chased him; I wanted to capture him, feel him. I managed to corner him, but he escaped from me. I was never able to touch him.

I feel the same way with you, here and now; you are so swift, so cunning, and I find myself mildly frustrated. Give in to me, if only for a moment; let me win this time, dammit. But no, you continue to run ahead, and I swear I can sense a smirk crack the corners of that skull of yours. You know what I’m feeling, don’t you? Are you perhaps trying to lure more out of me? Or are you simply playing another of your tiring – though fun – games? Perhaps it is both? No matter – here, I shall hold no quarter.

I’ll give you my best shot.

My body is feeling more strained as we continue to run; it is not built for sprinting. If we were trotting this out, I would catch you eventually. That is my form of endurance; yours outclasses mine, admittedly. But I am not about to cave; not when I’m like this.

The world is a blur to me; the cries of the annoyed spectators we loop past ring hollow to me. They sound so far away, in comparison to the wind raking across my ears.

I’m so close to you now; perhaps you are getting tired? Even you have limits, though yours are certainly near god like. Please, oh please, let me win; I’m so near, I reach out to just drag my teeth across your hindquarter…

I nearly slam into the unyielding wall that is you as you come to a complete stop. Where are we? I look around, trying to remember this familiar looking place; oh right, this is Dag’s hill. Okay, I remember now, I remember now…

I feel as if I’m in some sort of shock; my body is trembling as the adrenaline slowly dies down, my heart quaking hard as it attempts to calm itself, my lungs pushing then pulling back. My entire body is numb and hot; the scent of heavy perspiration slams into my nose. It is yours and mine both. I bring myself to the grassy floor, trying to remind myself that I can’t do the things I used to do. I can’t bite these residents; I can’t rake my claws across their ribcage. Only when I need to fight…only when I need to fight…

Stop that smirking. You only stopped because you knew I was about to win. Don’t deny it.

I roll onto my back, watching clouds pass by, the tree line framing the picture before me. This body of mine is now worn to the bones; yet the whole experience has left me feeling elated.

We must do this again, sometime. Though not too often; I don’t like things such as this becoming mundane. It is a precious thing, being able to simply run and play with someone. It is a precious thing, letting this instinct of mine snap to life.

It is a precious thing, to feel completely whole.