The cold blooded calculation. A sharp image seen from a distance, but sharp nevertheless. The rest of the background blurred. Focus so sharp that you could smell the prey. Succulent meat. Juicy, melting under the canines. Oh, what a feast….
The predator. His canines eager, his claws ready to rip the life out of the little animal. His eyes, firmly focused. Every mucle taut, rippling. The predator…terrible, beautiful…
His nostrils flared, the scent pumping his instinct to kill. His muscles tensed more. And he imched closer to the kill.
The lamb. Grazing blissfully in what would have been a mellow summer sun. An afternoon flushed with death.
The prey.
It was not a big leap. Just a stir and the lamb was his. Helpless. Immobile in those big paws. His claws dug in the soft flesh…those teeth bit into that little neck…He expected the salty satisfying spurt of blood…but what was this? The lamb stirred. Its muzzle grazed against that giant mane…that tiny head nestled into his powerful chest…
The fool. He took the predator for the protector….the fool.
The predator clenched his jaws to bite. But the damn muzzle nestled against his chest. This hunger was different. It was raging in its heart, in its loins…the damn hunger…how could he be a predator if he hungered for a lamb that way? The clenched jaws sprang open. He dropped the lamb…
Oh damn those wide eyes! He felt his heart would burst …
He turned, pretending not to see.
He ran…
The predator, who became the prey….
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