Hurt on purpose.

It's dark. Frogs, crickets, cicadas, all sing their song. The air smells like burning wood and cool summer. Spicy almost. Her ears twitched. She lay in her den listening to the night song. Her muzzle rest on her paws. She wondered how many stars were in the sky. Off in the distance she heard a howl. It was high pitched. She rose and trotted out into the open air. She heard another howl, equally as high pitched. She snorted air and caught the scent of coyote. For a moment she curled her lip. It was soundly unfair that even they had a pack when she did not.  Anger dashed up her throat and a growl rose from her maw. She heard several more howls and yips and then the sadness engulfed her. Memories wash over her. Images of running, hunting, playing. Surrounded by so many. Waves of emotion wracked her body. The tremors started. She lay down whining. New flashes, lions, falcons, ravens. Anger, love, sadness, loss, love, anger, sadness loss. The reel in her mind burst into cheetah like speed and just like that she ran. Past the trees, over the bushes, faster and faster, her legs trying to match the speed of the images in her mind. Her chest hurt, her lungs burned, she ran and ran. It seemed like days, but was merely hours before her mind shut off and instinct took over. Blindly she came to a trott, her chest heaving and legs shaking. She blinked several times, her eyes trying to focus and her brain attempting to process where she was and what she was doing. She slowed her pace gradually cooling her own muscles as a horse would. Her nose led her to trickling water. She drank, still blankly aware of what just happened. Her heart was still wild in her chest. She felt weak, small, vulnerable. The fire in her dwindled, her body grew chilled. She knew she should find her way back, but there was still too much emotion. The loss and hurt still too raw. A cold numb raw. She felt heavy and each step was a forced effort. She wandered until she found a dry bed of leaves and curled into them. It took a while but the warmth returned to her limbs. She felt the soreness of her muscles from such a vigorous sustained run. She curled in on herself as much as she could.  Taking small comfort from the smell of leaves, and the little warm pocket that they were creating together. Even dead things had a purpose. Maybe she will one day too.