James was having the time of his life. Back home, he was just a cog in the machine. A lousy little out of shape nobody in a call center. Dull,
meaningless work, interrupting people's dinners to pitch subscriptions, getting an earful of abuse he'd just have to take like there was any
chance they'd still make a purchase once they'd vented. His boss was constantly changing his schedule, just for kicks as far as he could tell.
And before this, it was his parents. Do this, do that, sit up straight, don't take that tone. It used to be, his only outlet was games. No
accountability, nothing to judge a guy on but skill. He'd dominate the game, and he'd smack talk all the way through. In the end though, he
was still just James Gorman, the pathetic little nothing. Here though, here he was the Lone Wolf. The peak of physical perfection, with nobody
to answer to. Nobody to talk down to him. A proper, red-blooded warrior. When he got hungry, he'd run some pathetic little animal down, tear
out its throat, and eat it raw. When he wanted to throw his weight around, oh boy, could he throw it.
He had just made a kill. One of those plump little rabbits found all over the park. Tasty little treats, but not much challenge. Really getting the
blood pumping, that came from chasing two-legged prey. He would never actually do them any real harm, but they didn't know that, and that
life or death fear was what made the game such a rush.
Finishing his meal, he began to clean up the mess, but stopped himself. A little blood on tooth and claw was just the thing to sell the image. All
he needed was some prey. He tried to avoid ever hunting the same one twice. That would just make him a bully, and besides, they'd eventually
learn there's no chase if they don't run. He saw himself more as an initiation right for the new arrivals. Just teaching them that he was a
predator, they were prey, and that left him a bit higher on the totem pole than they were. Making his way towards the entrance, where the new
ones tended to wander before they found a herd, he started sniffing around for just the right sort of scent. Oh, and this one was just too
perfect. Simply a matter of staying downwind, following the trail...
"... It seems like everyone's subliminally pressured to spending most of their time among their own 'species' or whatever the term is here, but
really isn't that enforcing the same sort of attitude that brought us segregation? Hell, you can't work on the security team unless you're a dog.
Isn't that basically the same thing as India's caste system?"
James couldn't imagine a more a perfect target. Already a bit jumpy, with that new meat body language. Standing there, alone, just talking to
herself. And the subject! He almost laughed out lout, giving himself away. Best of all, she was a rabbit. Just a human sized version of what he
could still taste on his lips. He probably didn't even need to bring his verbal game for this one. Just stride on up, show off the hardware, and
watch her scared little prey brain jump to conclusions. He saw a big dry twig in his path and stomped on it, just to savor the build up. And look
at that! She already looked like she was about to bolt, and she hadn't even turned around! It was too too perfect.
"H-hello!" She winced a little. "You haven't seen any huskies in the area, have you?"
That was the one thing he had to keep an eye out for. When it was his word against theirs, the fact he never hurt them kept him from getting
"reported to the mods" as it were, but if one ever saw him giving chase, he might have a hard time explaining it was all fun and games. As he
hadn't though, he just put on a wide grin, and started slowly striding forward.
She was clearly starting to tense up, but to her credit, she was holding her ground for now. "I'm trying to conduct a few interviews," there were
the furtive glances, "it's for a documentary on the sort of m-mental changes visitors here um..."
Now, just a subtle little flex of the claws, that had her starting to back away, and for that special little touch, he ran his tongue over those big
ol' canines... perfect! The scared little bunny tore off like a bolt of lightning, just pure irrational instinct! She was a fast one too! In a straight
race, there was no way he'd be able to keep up, but these were his primary hunting grounds, and he knew where you had to watch your step...
Suddenly the fleeting white form plummeted off the side of the trail. That exposed root snagged her foot and sent her tumbling down a ditch.
James thought it would just let him pick up the pace, but she wasn't getting back up. She hadn't broken something had she? No, no. She would
have screamed. This must just be her freezing up, accepting the inevitable. Time for "count coup."
James slowed his pace as he caught up, bending down with his predator's grin, taking in that look of terror as his muzzle reached her neck,
and that was where he always stopped. A quick lick across their throat, and a sly little phrase. "You're dinner." Just this once though, he
couldn't resist an extra little touch. Quickly, he wiped the blood of his earlier kill off his claws, leaving a mark on that snow white belly. A
perfect "kill," but wow that heart of hers was pounding away! He felt a little guilty, even as he walked away, telling himself he hadn't really done
anything. Going back to help her up would only scare her more at this point, but maybe he should ask someone check on her.