Tyrant

Pupils stayed constricted as the 180 pound wolf thundered down the row of stores. His mind was completely racing with so many different thoughts, he had no idea what he was thinking. All he knew was there was something that had to be in his mouth. He picked up some trash- that wasn't it. Tore up the grass- that wasn't it either. Something caught nose. He turned to a shapeless mass on the road. He stared straight at it. Everything quivered inside of him. What was it about that mass that made his instincts focus on one thing, his stomach, his teeth. He turned to the side, then the other. It was late and he saw no cars. Racing to the middle he bit down quickle on the road kill. It was squirrel, dry blood filled his mouth and he trembled. But it wasn't satisfieing. He again turned, and now, all he could think of was -flesh- ... -human flesh- He growled and began frantically looking for a human. Loud roars came as the moral mind told him to shut up, his instincts told him to drive his prey from their homes to come and be killed.