Victorious

On the hunt, the predator searches.

Exploring, listening, tasting the air, it actively works to bring prey into its sphere of awareness.The beast catches a new scent, and begins to stalk; you see, the predator is hungry, ravenously so.It waits, watching for the right moment... and pounces on its prey.It gorges itself on the flesh, intoxicated. This is triumph. This is what it means to be victorious.

The hunters hunger is sated… for a time.Where once there was what seemed a black hole ready to devour anything it could, for a while it feels a deadened void. And again it waits for the right moment, the moment when it’s victory has been digested, and the hunger returns.Because it never truly leaves… not really.