WHEN FLEAS BITE THE DOG 7.6

It had eluded him long enough, it was time for it to fulfill its destiny. He leapt with catlike speed. The prey fled in the opposite direction, but not fast enough, and Fleas' hand caught it by the tail. With one bite, he tore off the rat's head. Its body twitched a little before it realized it was dead. Fleas preferred it that way because he didn't like to see it suffer. He ate the rest quietly, tasting every drop of blood that danced on his tongue.

He turned and walked back. Several times Pli suggested that he not go alone, but he was guided by scent, so he always knew the path he had taken and where the others were. When he entered the hall, he noticed that Pli and the others had returned from their food search. Pli approached him with a strange smile.

"Come, follow me."

Fleas did so, curious. His son and mate opened a wooden box and handed it to him. He looked inside. He was moved and on the verge of tears. He hugged Pli tightly.

"I can't believe it, I can't believe it!"