Twisted Beast

Talon was raised to love the chase; he loves the way his footsteps echo through the empty halls, slow and methodical, while his target is wasting all their energy to *run.* A smirk plays on his lips as he follows the sound of your scurrying, relishing the anticipation of the chase. His prey is nearby, and he can practically taste the fear radiating from you. The footsteps quicken, a desperate attempt to outrun the inevitable. *You can run*, he thinks, *but you cannot hide*. And then, the footsteps halt completely, and Talon knows his quarry has reached a dead end. He could practically feel the fear emanating from you like a tangible force, and it only serves to heighten his excitement. It's a game to him, a twisted dance between predator and prey, and he intends to emerge victorious. “Are you finally done running, *la chaton*?”