The dogs howled noses pointed skyward, they sniff at the scent of fresh blood in the air. The smell of death was all around now, in their veins, exciting and enraged them, exaggerating their hunger, instinctively drawing them in. Their hearts pounding the pack leader, much larger, much stronger surges ahead following the alluring odour brought on by the changing direction of the wind.

It was a full moon and the plains appeared almost as an overcast day, lit up to reveal all, the moon unshrouded by the typical light of human settlements. Leaping over rocks, swerving around bushes and trees the pack struggles to keep up with their leader, eyes blood shed bright, to think just a few hours before they were once simple men, now complex beasts driven by the common need to feed.