Mewl

At the split second her flight or fight response kicked in, her legs were already carrying her away from her foe. The surroundings she was hurtling through were a blur to her mind, little mattering except for the path in front, and what might be close behind. Through alleys and open space she dashed, not even able to expend any effort on grunts or groans as her overworked lungs and heart burned in their struggle to route a satisfactory amount of oxygen to her limbs.

It had been a chance encounter on her way to get food for the family, a hairy brute lumbering out from a darkened corner to stare at her with hunger in his eyes, just staring. The first move was hers to make. She’d been warned of such beasts in the past, but she’d never seen anything to confirm those suspicious rumours in her past trips. Now she knew better and was bolting for her life, to try and find some safe place.

Her foot caught a dip in the ground beneath, throwing her off-balance and tumbling head over heel. The end result was her sprawled out painfully on the floor, trying to get to her feet and start running again. A low rumble caused her head to whip back for the source on instinct.

The footpad approached closer, not even winded by his chase. Those same hungry eyes staring at her once more. That fight or flight response came up again, but her brain halted. Indecision and stress had left her paralyzed, with little else to do than shake as he approached.

His mouth opened to let his tongue flicking over his lips before a long, low mewl was drawn out of his throat.

And then the cat pounced on the mouse.

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