He prowled in the woods, all soundless precision and deadly intent. His keen eyes dismissed the darkness as a non-hindrance, while his sharp hearing tuned out irrelevant sounds to track the music he lived for: that panicked, frantic thrumming of a heart that recognized lethal pursuit. Fear. Ah. Exhilarating.
Almost there, within striking distance. His victim whimpered, terrified. He silently unsheathed his weapons.
Afterwards, he walked up to the cottage, calling to the woman inside. The door opened, revealing him as he stood in the light.
“There’s my baby,” she cooed, reaching for him.
“Meow,” he replied, purring contentedly.