Re: Hunt
Sound. Sound twitched ears suited to sound instead of sight, even a blinded cat could leap in the dark. Thud-thud. His heartbeat was a disaster of spite, his head whirred, satellite seeking home. Thud-thud. Little rabbity-prey, run, run as fast as you can. But rabbits didn't groan, rabbits squealed. The tail lashed, the great head lifted. The throb of a thunderstorm in his growl. She smelled like wounded food.
His spine corded like a whip ready to strike, the white paws were blood spattered, the cruel claws curving back into soft fur.
He might have laughed, but tigers lacked capacity. Instead, the deliberate swirl of pink tongue over teeth.