Blood Slushies
A Feast in the Pasture
"Catrina, stop playing with your food."
Catrina Brody sat up out of the tall grass. The tuffs of grass that would normally stand out against her strawberry hair blended into it in the midnight dark. Princess Boo-Boo gave Catrina a broad lick on the cheek. Cow saliva now dripped from her cheek.
"Can't I eat something less... cute?" she asked, caressing Princess Boo-Boo's snout after cleaning off her face with her sleeve.
Glaring, her mother shook her head. "Hamburgers are made of the same thing," she replied. "What's the difference?" A young bull struggled helplessly in her mother's grasp, its muscles flexed and its eyes wild. No matter its flailings, the bull could not free itself. Finally, Mrs. Brody dug her fangs deep into its throat. The thick muscles gradually relaxed and then went still. Crimson streams slid down the bull's side and dripped off its stomach, staining her shoes.
"You've ruined your shoes again, dear," Mr. Brody said as he jogged over from his meal of a fine heifer. The silver in his salt and pepper hair glinted and shone in the full moon light. His round physique gave no indication that he was once the leanest, fiercest werewolf in Savannah River Valley, but his distinct jawline and cheekbones had kept that young, edgy look.
"Cat," complained her sister Jessica. "Hurry up and eat! I'm getting sleepy."
Catrina sighed while still stroking Princess Boo-boo. The calf's big, brown eyes spoke for her. You wouldn't harm me, would you Miss Brody?
"Cat!"
"Alright! Alright!" She looked the calf in the eye. "I'm real sorry about this."
Catrina's large canines punctured the tender cow flesh and blood squirted onto the grass at its hooves.
Catrina Brody sat up out of the tall grass. The tuffs of grass that would normally stand out against her strawberry hair blended into it in the midnight dark. Princess Boo-Boo gave Catrina a broad lick on the cheek. Cow saliva now dripped from her cheek.
"Can't I eat something less... cute?" she asked, caressing Princess Boo-Boo's snout after cleaning off her face with her sleeve.
Glaring, her mother shook her head. "Hamburgers are made of the same thing," she replied. "What's the difference?" A young bull struggled helplessly in her mother's grasp, its muscles flexed and its eyes wild. No matter its flailings, the bull could not free itself. Finally, Mrs. Brody dug her fangs deep into its throat. The thick muscles gradually relaxed and then went still. Crimson streams slid down the bull's side and dripped off its stomach, staining her shoes.
"You've ruined your shoes again, dear," Mr. Brody said as he jogged over from his meal of a fine heifer. The silver in his salt and pepper hair glinted and shone in the full moon light. His round physique gave no indication that he was once the leanest, fiercest werewolf in Savannah River Valley, but his distinct jawline and cheekbones had kept that young, edgy look.
"Cat," complained her sister Jessica. "Hurry up and eat! I'm getting sleepy."
Catrina sighed while still stroking Princess Boo-boo. The calf's big, brown eyes spoke for her. You wouldn't harm me, would you Miss Brody?
"Cat!"
"Alright! Alright!" She looked the calf in the eye. "I'm real sorry about this."
Catrina's large canines punctured the tender cow flesh and blood squirted onto the grass at its hooves.