A predator wants most that which must be hunted.
Patient until the very last moment and then not patient not waiting not just or kind or thinking just hungry, just hunger itself, just close enough for the scent of rising heat to drive out all thoughts but that of bared flesh and the feast at hand.
There is a certain dark beauty in using skill and instinct when bringing to ground that which you chase; it is a prayer, an act of deadly seduction and the space between predator and prey is sacred because when it is gone there is nothing but the blood and viscera of desire.
It is the predator’s curse to feel most alive in the hunt; it is the prey’s fate to feel most alive when caught.