Empty Alleys - A Rising Pack - HUGE WIP

[potioncat]

Chapter One

Oreo crouched down at the edge of the alley, watching, waiting. There was silence for many minutes, and she started to feel a pit of worry build in her stomach. Where is it? She asked herself.
About a minute later, as she started to panic, a man walked out of the back of the restaurant, holding two trash cans. She let out a relieved sigh, before remembering she shouldn’t make any noise, for fear that the man would notice her. The only sound in the alley was the clang of metal against stone as the man set the trash cans down, before leaving.
She quietly stood there for a few more minutes, waiting to see if the man was going to come back. Her stomach rumbled, and she drooled at the scent of beef.
At last, when she couldn’t take it anymore, she darted over to the trash cans. She quickly nosed the lid off. The lid made a clang as it hit the ground, but she had already grabbed part of a piece of beef. She turned away and started dashing away as fast as she could, hearing the back door of the restaurant open behind her.
She kept on running and running, until she felt like her legs were about to fall off. She came to a stop, panting and looking behind her nervously. I hope I wasn’t followed. She worried, flattening her ears against the back of her head. She stood there for a minute or so, before she began to walk home. Or, at least, where her current home was.
It’s not like you’ll ever have a true home, Oreo. Her mind whispered.
Oreo shook her furry head of the thoughts and walked along the sidewalk of a road. Cars zoomed past her, leaving their disgusting smoky scent behind. She used to be scared of cars, but she soon realized none of the humans inside the cars ever noticed her. Of course, she knew to watch for animal control cars. That was something she would never forget, after the incident..
She headed along until she reached the edge of town. She trotted into a field which led to a forest, and she approached the edge of the forest. She walked up to her den, which was dug under some tree roots. She slipped inside and dropped the beef on the ground while she dug a small hole in the soft dirt. She bit into the tender, juicy meat, swallowing a few bites, then picked it up and dropped the rest in the hole. She swiftly covered it back up, packing the dirt down with her paw so that it was compound.
She yawned, wanting to settle down on the sort-of-comfortable bedding she had made for herself out of (mostly fresh) leaves and grass, but she couldn’t. She had to look for more food to supply herself. She only had one bit of food, and that was a piece of beef that was about as big as her snout.
She exited the den reluctantly, looking around the field that was before her. I’m not very good at hunting.. But I’ve done it before, so I know I can. She shook herself and stretched her legs.
She sniffed the air, quickly scenting rabbit. She swiftly walked in the direction of the rodent, keeping to the edge of the tall grass. Soon, she spotted a small black rabbit, nibbling on some little blue flowers.
She dropped into a crouch and began to creep forward, lake-blue eyes focused on the rabbit’s plump figure. She stopped about a foot away from the rabbit, wagging her tail excitedly. Then she leaped.
She missed the rabbit, and it began to make a mad dash for the forest.
Not this time, Oreo told herself. She raced after the rabbit, wind ruffling her fur. She chased it into the forest, and then finally grabbed it by the neck. She shook it, then bit its neck. It stopped struggling and went limp, eyes glazing over.
Oreo lifted her head and puffed out her chest proudly. I knew I’d catch you, little rabbit! She thought, grinning.
A howl of pain rang from deeper in the forest. Oreo turned in the direction of the sound, wondering whether to approach the sound or not. Uh.. Should I go? I mean, that deep in the forest might be dangerous..
She heard more howling. It sounded pitiful.
Okay.. I should be okay, it’s doesn’t sound too far. Oreo told herself. She began to head into the forest, holding the rabbit tight in her jaws as if she expected something to jump out at her and steal it from her.