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es·cape
əˈskāp/
verb
1.
break free from confinement or control.
2.
fail to be noticed or remembered by (someone).
noun
1.
an act of breaking free from confinement or control.

I. Can't. Breath. My paws dug into the dirt around me, kicking it up as I ran at my full capability. My senses were alert, while my emotions were out of control. I'm terrified; I just escaped one of the largest rouge packs in Maine. My chest felt like it was on fire, and my body was sore. I couldn't stop though. I had to keep pushing. I had to escape.

I couldn't hear them anymore, yet the only noise filling my ears is the sound of my beating heart. I could feel my pulse vibrating throughout my body. I need rest, I can't keep pushing forward. I started to walk a slow pace keeping aware of any odd noises. It seemed safe for now. I tried to pick up on any scents to tell me what territory I was on, but there were none present. Hopefully this is no mans land.

I found a little lake when I walked further ahead. I crouched down lowering my head towards the water lapping some onto my tongue. As soon as I felt the cool moisture hit my dry tongue I hurriedly drank from the lake. I was so sore, I could barely walk now that some of the adrenaline has worn off. I licked my paws waiting for an animal to stroll by. Nightfall seemed to be peaking it's way through, but since it was late fall I couldn't really tell.

The days counting up to my escape were peaceful, but I couldn't take being trapped anymore. A woman I didn't even love had me under her control. Her mate didn't even mind. He let her use me. She had to overload drugs into my body for me to even get hard enough for her to ride. It was disgusting, but I'm not going to wither away in self pity over it. No - if it weren't for the fact that she lusted over me, I would've never been untied, and never had the opportunity to run away. I don't always see things for the better, but in this case I'd rather not see it for the worse.
A deer, probably in its middle age had strolled up to get a drink of water not even noticing my presence. I really didn't want to eat it, I hated eating in my wolf form. I hated that I loved it. I loved chasing the animal only knowing that it won't win in the end. I love feeling it struggle and whimper under my grasp as I bite into its sweet, sweet flesh, but I wish I didn't. I stalked my prey enjoying the feeling of control. I was far too close to it when it noticed my presence; I'm sorry little Bambi.

After fulfilling my carnivorous needs I hid my self close to the edge of the lake where the plants were thicker and greener that the rest of the colorful forest. The leaves crunched under my weight while I slowly curled into a comfortable position. I won't have much time to sleep, but hopefully I'll get enough to push forward tomorrow. My tongue curled as I yawned and fell into a peaceful slumber.

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