hunt

I am sleek. I am pure symmetry. I am a curled in my niche. I am caressed by darkness, warmth, comfort. I feel my kiith. I feel their presence. They feel me. I feel comfort. They feel comfort. I sleep. We sleep.

I sense intrusion. I feel unease. I awake. i sense dis-symmetry. I sense discordia. Anomaly. Aberration. I feel disturbance. I leave my niche. I break my pleasing solitude. I distangle from my sleep. I seek the intrusion. My kiith send their love, consolation and approval. I return affirmation.

I sense the wandering quarry. It is sickly hot with fear. It is smouldering with apprehension. I am sleek symmetry. I am silent. I move unseen, unheard. I stalk the quarry. It knows. It turns. It retreats. I follow. I am unseen, unheard. I darkle. I tinct.
I anticipate a hunt.

The quarry hears my rustle. I add a little hiss. It is horror and terror. It turns, it retreats, it runs. It scrambles through my caverns, my catacombs, my maze. I am smooth symmetry. I flow fluid through the channels and ducts. I am the blackness of night. I lurk beyond the dim light of the tunnels.

The quarry reaches a junction. It is unsure. I hears me. I am stalking stealth. I follow close behind. Terror blows past my quarry and brings it along, through my caverns, my catacombs.
I am patience. I wait in a dark niche. The quarry wanders endless through my maze. I am anticipation. I wait for its appearance. It comes.

I reveal myself. I glisten in the dim light. I am sharpness and teeth. It is now pure terror. It flees faster than wind, though my channels. It breaks free of my maze. I give chase!

I am speed, I am velocity. I hiss, I give chase. I am agility. I follow close behind. I burst through my last channel into the chill night air. I am invirogated. I am hyperreality. I am clarity. I am wide awake. I relish the run. I relish the hunt. I give chase.

The quarry is stark, contrast, red, hot, fear, a pinpoint beacon in a cool, dark, fresh world. I hear its pants. I sense its exhaustion. I am anticipation. It heads for the foothills to its escape.

I am guile and cunning. I detour to the cliffs.
I am pure symmetry and perfection. I am power. I leap the cliff and eclipse the cold moon. I am exquisite symmetry. My quarry sees me. I land on the crowns of the trees. I am stealth and deception. I hide. Leaves spiral to the ground.
I wait.

My quarry wanders in circles unsure. I am sleek steath. I move amongst the branches without a sound.
I am withheld tension. I wait to spring.

The circle draws near to its completion. The quarry stumbles towards me. I move like silent mercury towards the quarry. I am power controlled. I spring and knock it down. The quarry is desperation. It draws and attacks. I am pure symmetry. I am sleek speed. I am control. I strike. I withdraw.
I am pure power. I smash into the quarry. It is knocked breathless. It fights back. I am tenacity and dextrexity. I subdue its strikes. I disable its attacks. I pin down the quarry. My glistening teeth.

I relish the hunt.
I feel fully alive.

I am pure symmetry. I am sleekness. I am speed. I am power. I am perfection.
I am grinning death.

I part my lips. I open my mouth.

I bite.