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Predators and Prey

metatherat

Really ratty rat
Why are there so many predators here, Meta the rat wondered aloud. I asked because the bodies were, well, a mess. There was another rat lying just past him, his head smashed, his body slashed. We all knelt down. In the blackness, that word was hauntingly familiar. She was alive.

"What happened? Was this part of our little joke?"

"No," Lady Shadows said. She drew out a large box from under the bed, opened it, and took out a large spoonful of blood. "Oh, all of it." She stuck it in her mouth, chewed it, swallowed it down, and her face was expressionless as she looked back up.
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metatherat

Really ratty rat
Why are there so many predators here, Meta the rat wondered, the edge of his voice breaking on the last syllable.

"I don't know, Dashy," Dash said, a lanky half-salmon splashing her with his tail, as he stared in wonder at the jaws of a cephalopod. "I think it's just that everything's pretty foreign to me."

"True," Meta said, nodding, "The cold water, the sharpness, the steady sweetness of the pig-purity, the damned sweat." He sat a long snout on her belly and gasped at the richness of the marmalade as it seeped into her, before looking to the side.
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Predictive text is the future. The future.
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