Word of the Day 100 Challenge: Privation
Drusilla sat on a bench, moonlight reflecting on the lake surface, as she stroked the large wolf. Clever fingers worked into the thick fur, finding the perfect scratching spots, while she bemoaned the privation of her hunger.
An occasional jogger passed them by, not noticing the pale woman and her large canine companion.
The wolf scented the air, a lone predator catching her attention, a young man waiting in the dark for a victim to pass.
"He is a catch, isn't he, Puppy." Drusilla unclipped the wolf's leash. "A nasty, little man who wants to inflict himself on others. Yummy!"
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