The forest was warm tonight, filled with musky scents. The mold and tree bark, decaying foliage, and animals, always the animals. Their urine and feces were small scents compared to the smell of their musk. The musk of their hair and blood, and the scent of their fear were intoxicating. They feared me, as I slinked through the bushes and trees, my long tail swishing, and my large paws making no noise. I'd pass the small ones that were panting in fright and frozen in place. Passing them and looking for larger game, perhaps a deer would wander in my path. My feline body wasn't really hungry, just aching; aching for the hunt, the chase. It was so different from my human body, all golden fur and muscle, I glorified in the power of this body.
Suddenly I hear something crashing through the forest, downwind from me, and jump into a nearby tree to watch the animal's progress. Making so much noise, I think, surly they have scented me. It must not be prey, if it doesn't fear me. My heart beat slows and I cautiously watch from the high tree branch. Suddenly the noise stops, so close to where I perch. I listen intently and can hear heavy panting, like the strange animal has run miles this night.