Thrill. Heart beat. Closer.
Every step, hunting down prey.
Blood will flow freely.

I run through the woods
My prey is stumbling down
Right before he cries

Their fleet slides past us
Unaware. The trap is set.
We smell fear. And strike.

Trailing from behind
Soft, light steps as I ready
My blade for the kill

The thrill of the hunt,
Rapid pulsing of the blood,
Bring our foes to heel.

They have to be near,
I hear their laboured breathing,
Excitement fills me.

sweating, senses high,
The enemy is very close.
Once more we will hunt.

Our prey is sighted,
Our attack must be very swift.
They know they are caught.

Senses high alert,
Anticipation of prey,
Patience is the key.

That dark side writhes within him,
This is no comic strip.
His tactics not on a whim,
Clans will lose leadership.