Thump Thump, a constant rythm of contracting and relaxing, an unstoppable task. The tired tissues were past their glory, getting older and weaker with every constriction, and yet - Thump Thump - the drums went on.
The beast strolled through the clearing, devouring all that was green, and much in between. Each step was heavy and unhurried, each mouthful hungry and mechanical. The same routine carried on every day, from sunrise to sunset, ocasionally interrupted by a gulp of water, a dip in the mud, a watchful pause. The system must be fed in order to keep functioning.
The monster observed from under the dappling shadows of the towering trees that surpassed its age by centuries. Every system must be fed, but each has its own fuel.
A sudden impulse disrupted the pulse. A hormonal cascade, a trigger. Dilation, compression, a primal feeling that makes it accelerate, directing energy to the limbs. It beats harder, faster, stronger - THUMPTHUMP - shaking with each movement of the body. The drums chant of war.
The first bite hit the base of the neck, mistakingly left unattended. The second striked the throat, each teeth opening a gash, colliding once again underneath the flesh. The hooks grasped the back while the talons collided against the flanks, making the beast topple over the foliage it once was eating.
There was no need for a third bite.
The pressure dropped, its fading throbing evicting the fluids through the fresh wounds until it tinted the ground in crimson. The last ~Thump~ could still be felt, if not heard, when the mouth of the monster ripped it off the now silent chest. It was now a gift, a signal of interest, the symbol of a courtship caked in blood and bones that would, hopefully, bring forth more lives to compensate for the loss of this one heart.