The never-ending hunger—the beasts knew nothing else. In the barren wastes that spawned them, their only drive was to slake their appetite, if only for a little. Any moment not feeding was a moment of misery and slow starvation. They were not intelligent creatures singularly, but collectively they made up a single dangerous entity, able to hunt and eventually wear down any prey, then consume it to replenish their numbers, to grow the horde. While not hunting, they spawned and fought within the pack. This culled the weak and old, which were eaten to maintain their numbers. Only the strong were allowed to hunt, and only the strongest were able to lead the horde, to direct the ravenous pack.


    There was a symbiosis with their prey, a cycle they knew well. Their population was tied to getting the food needed to swell their numbers. No prey meant the extinction of their pack. They did not understand self-preservation when they hunted. The fact that the prey was so much larger and more deadly as a single entity than they were as a horde meant nothing—only the drive to rend, to kill, to feed. The bodies on the ground near the rampaging creature meant nothing to the beasts. Once dead, they were food, nothing more. To die meant you were food; to live meant pain or to eat—that was the extent of their existence.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    The creature finally fell, and the horde advanced for the kill. Food to slake the pain of hunger made the beasts more frenzied. Even with the creature flailing and still killing as it could while falling, the beasts'' instinct of the finality of their prey on the ground was all but certain.


    The wounded creature was still fighting violently as it fell. The many rents in the plates in its side, even with many dead at its feet, did not matter—the beasts kept coming. Mangled and bloody as the beasts were, the pile that painted the landscape in red gore was a testament to the creature’s power. But for every beast it defended against, more would come to take their place. As it went down, it was covered in beasts as though it was dropping into the sea. It could no longer see the sky, only the bodies, only knowing pain as the beasts scraped, clawed, and bit through chunks of its flesh and armor. It would fight to the last; only death would stop the creature from fighting back. But the horde on top of it was suffocating it even before the blood loss and wounds incurred could end its life. Then, out of nowhere, the ground trembled, and the horde of beasts paused, sensing something too late as they were ripped and flung from their prey as four more creatures came to the aid of the fallen.