Warren had found himself at an easy trot beside the lake's edge. Which was the limit in distance he was willing to go near the forest. He hadn't enjoyed being near the forest. He always felt like there was some kind of force pulling him closer to it, and didn't wish to have anything more to do with it. When he wasn't busy rummaging through the garbages or near the cooks back door for scraps, nor picking off mice one by one, he was at the lake watching for fish. He wasn't exactly what you would call a good fisher, but he had been lucky a far few times. He would have been better had he made the effort to practice, but the motivation to do so rarely hit him. Many scents swept their way to and from his nostrils, making it almost impossible for him to ignore all. He usually tried to pay no mind to scents, they were useless unless it led to easy prey. And he made a sort of resolution to not stop and listen to trivial per suits. Such as that mangy cat who bothered him earlier. Too fast for a meal, too annoying for anything else.

 

He ended his trot as a flickering blotch in the water caught his eye. Staring at a stand still with one paw at a ready lift, his eyes flickered along with the fish's movements. His lips rolling back in a sort of cringing way, more from solid concentration then anything else. He discovered a new tactic that he had seemed to gain luck from on his last catch. Warren looked down and noticed the fish swimming gently to the left, almost at a stop. When he noticed this, he silently unrolled his long rubbery tongue and slightly let a few drops of drool fall into the water. The fish sped a few inches in a feared response. Then turned around, guessing by instinct that the small droplets could only be mere food for itself rather then a predator. It swam slowly, closer and closer to where the droplets formed. Investigating. And as it did, Warren quickly batted it, scooping it out of the water and onto the shore. It flopped and twirled in the air. But its fate was sealed as Warren sank his fangs deep into its ribs. That was that, and breakfest was served.

 

As he stuffed his mouth full of fish flesh, he noticed a human at the opposite side of the river. A dog sat near to him. The humans were usually out this early fishing, or sending their dogs off to hunt. He usually ignored or avoided this. Why was this case so different? Being wary in any sense incase a human or it's pet tried to pull something, or take his food for whatever reason. They usually threw sticks at him or beat him with a broom if they had half the chance. He had always been through their garbages. And was quite a fast runner, but not a perfect one. And suffered a few bruises from not being fast enough, even a bullet wound once. He remembered that one, not a fun time it was. His face wrinkled at the memory of having to pull the bullet out of his leg. Not fun at all.

 

"Wretched humans..."

 

His mouth gurgling and mumbling the words inbetween gobbles of flesh. Gulping before he went for another mouthful. Looking away from the human at a far.