I was just sitting back letting my mind wander around Bleachdom when this popped into my head. I can't remember reading any fic written from this point of view so I thought I'd give it a go. ; )
Disclaimer: Bleach and its characters belong to Tite Kubo.
He was – word, what was it? – aching. No, something close. It was tugging, painful, deep inside. A need... he needed. So hard to think. So hard to... since the emptiness bore through. He was... what. The word. He was -
Yes. Ravenous. He hadn't eaten, not in ages. Too dangerous. Too many... things, auras. Strong ones. Coming, going, ripping at the world. Too many.
But he needed, wanted so badly. He reached, feeling, searching... there. Not so far. Away from the tall... what? Buildings. Yes, too dangerous to hunt among the buildings. Strong. Too strong. Maybe, but... too late. He was running, claws digging up dark soil, twigs snapping against his mask.
The anticipation, glorious, he could feel his fur rising. To rend and tear, oh so long since he'd last left that – the smell of it! – that lingering stain of blood. Closer, he was getting closer. He slowed. Just ahead, a clearing, his prey.
Crouching, looking through the last bits of brush and twigs separating him from his meal. Three of them. Two at the other end, standing close, not paying much attention to the third. The third, closer, much closer. Smaller than the others, was a thing – cub, foal, larva, - child. Singing to itself and ripping up flowers. Pretty child. Pretty little child with tender meat, sweet, so sweet and juicy. He shuddered.
They were strong, made his mouth water, saliva dripping off his jaws. Strong, but not the dangerous kind. Not the ones with dark cloths and the things, sharp, fangs they wore at their hips. Not those. If he pounced, if he was fast – and he was, so very fast – he could snap it up, crunch its bones, be gone before the other two could reach him.
So hungry, maddening. His legs were twitching, he needed to. He leapt. Racing, claws ripping out turf, panting. Nearly there, the others hadn't even moved. The child, his focus, it filled his vision. Jaws snapping open, angling to rip. The child only moments away, turning, eyes wide. Gone.
It was – the word. It was –
"Look, Baldy! It's a puppy!"
"Damn it! Don't call me that!"
"Yachiru! Stop playing with that Hollow, please. It's ugly. Besides, you don't know where it's been."
(In case there is some confusion, they're in Faux bodies. Hence they don't look like Shinigami to our Hollow friend.)