His first memories were of the herd, thousands and thousands, roaming and feeding and devouring the delicious ones, no thought but of the next juicy bite. That was then, and now everything has changed. The delicious ones are still out there, but the herd has thinned. Food didnít use to bite back when everything was simple and right. Now, the delicious ones hunted the herd and food was no longer simple. It moved cautiously across the street, dragging its broken foot, a forgotten memory bubbling from its brain. It searched deep until the word came forward: fear. It remembered fear.