There is wild in his blood, in his soul. It calls to him on nights when his headg is empty. It bays in his blood like the hounds of Artemis and the hunt takes root in his mind. The smell of rain in his nose, the feel of moss under his feet and bark under his hand running pounding faster and faster chasing the prey ahead. Leap from a tree and hit...then he awakens to modern life. Loud, too loud, overwhelming cars, bustling city life. Tamps him down as he ties his shoes the taste of blood on his lips and the smell of the hunt in his mind.
