Maya breathed in the night. The smell of grass that had seen rain that morning and had been befouled by someone’s dog a few hours ago. The sickly sweet smell of alcohol emanating from a few passers-by, as if leaking out from their pores. Sounds of peaceful snoring mingled with the fretful breaths of the restless and the enticing moans of nocturnal lovers.
Maya smiled as her sable fur glistened under the moonlight. She licked one paw idly. It was a good night for a hunt. As the wind changed direction, blowing her scent away from the village, she made her move. Following the trail of alcohol would not be difficult. She padded along silently until the stench was almost like a solid presence in front of her. Silhouetted against the night, she was invisible. Not that a bunch of drunks would have noticed her anyway.
In silence, she pounced.
This fortnight’s Literary Lion theme: Panther.