[Seasonal Event] no spring skips its turn

Amalia Still sitting on a shelf and never Never seen the sun shine brighter He is still, a statue, tight with readiness, and for a moment the world stills. A thrill dances electric up her spine. She challenges him, causes him pause, lights tension in his body and flight in his heart. It should not excite her, but ah, how it does: she, the baker, the sunlit waif, challenges him, the heathen, the glacier in the night. She can see it in him, smell it on him, taste it in the air, and it lights something primal within. The predator stares at him, her prey, dark eyes unblinking as they hold his blue, the steady purr rising within her breast. She could strike him, leap upon him, take him between her teeth and taste the salt upon his skin. His head tilts, and the moment changes. Shocked, the leopard shakes her head, wondering at the incredible strength of instinct which grasped her moments before. It is strange to be a predator; she is unfamiliar with the thrill, but as she regards him she softens and drops, the flare of fiery aggression mellowing back into playful interest, kitten-like delight. One large paw snaps out to swat at an unfortunate bug, though her attention is quick to return to his face, round ears turning as she gauges his next plan. She watches with interest as he reaches into his sled, though the predator's wariness is not absent as his hand disappears. It is the smell which reaches her first: before he has a chance to speak Amalia is sitting up, suddenly alert, awake, aware. The smell of meat has never been one that appealed to her before, but as he dangles the partridge she finds herself ravenous, yearning to taste it, to tear it with her teeth. Long tail beating the ground in anticipation, she watches his hand with rapt attention, head following his movements, body tensed like a spring. As soon as he tosses it, she uncoils, and the meat vanishes between her teeth. Back on the ground Amalia purrs, stalking closer to Deimos with a playful air. Three feet away she stops again, her body pressed close to the earth, long tail swatting the empty sky. And it feels like me on a good day