Thrill of the Hunt

By Suisan           21 September 2003


Slithering and slinking, I move across the killing field, inching my way to the target, which isn't alone this night.  He's clearly playing more attention to what he is doing than to his surroundings.


The thrill of the hunt is what draws me from the comfort of my home this night.  I have no real need to do this; it's just a desire.  A way to test myself against a foe that, in times past, has proven clever and resourceful.

Tenderly placing each of my steps carefully, so as not to alert the quarry, I creep closer and closer to the quivering, noisy mass of muscle, sinew and skin.

A musky, earthy scent wafts through the air, coming from the target's direction.  My sinuses twitch in response to the stimuli and I force away the urge to sneeze.  I cannot give away my position to my quarry; I've been hunting too long.

Silently I inch ever closer to the target, movements so slow as not to be seen, my natural camouflage hiding my progress even further from my prey.  I stop as the object of this night's hunt's head comes up and he looks in my direction.  Closing my eyes, I bend my will on becoming invisible to him.  I'm a few lengths away from his position; one wrong move and the hunt will be over.

The air shifts, gently caressing my nose instead of tickling my cheek, and I open my eyes slightly to see my target has gone back to his business.  Clearly he is no longer wary of his position or his safety.  I focus on the form before me, memorizing shape and scent, knowing this hunt will soon be complete.

I move forward a few more lengths, my passage as silent as a gentle breeze, until I am right behind him.  My target, my prey, my objective for this night.

Reaching out, I tap the quarry on the shoulder and delight in his squeal of utter fright, right before I offer him my gift...



"Eeew!  What the hell?"

Movement stops, until the gift is found.

"What the hell?  Get it off, get it off!"

Why is he moving like that?  Doesn't he know where....



"Ow!  God damn cat!"

Guess not.  At least she appreciates what I've done.  Her laughter is light, trilling and even respectful as it fills the air.

"Oh, he brought you a present.  Isn't he just a clever hunter?"

"Gross.  Oh man, now I'm going to have to wash these sheets."

Oooh, she gives great ear rubs!

"Just praise him and take the prezzie to the trash, while I distract him."

"Ow, ow, ow ... I think I broke my ass.  Damn cat."

"Don't blame him for your reactions.  It's not his fault you ended up on the floor."

Noooo, don't stop.  *purr* *bump* *rub*

"I suppose you're used to this?"

"Well, I do have a cat of my own."

"Yeah, well, next time I lock the damn door.  Sheesh!"

~~~ END ~~~


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