Finish this part of my story I got writers block The blood dripping from the bite was all Sam needed to see. The warmth of the red fluid reminded him of home (his grandmothers beet stew she'd make when is was cold) His breath, a cloud upon the air. If there were anything of his friend left, it was gone. "So we doing this?!" Sam asked, pulling out his knife. His friend responded with a shriek like roar. "Okay bill, let's dance!"