Wildcat

Thanks goes to Whyte for providing expert opinion and expertise in this particular topic of choice.


--------------------
Quote:
"Hunting is what I do and I cannot change that. Now do you want to carry on talking or are you gonna take your 10 minute head start?" - Wildcat
--------------------

The sounds of rainfall and distant gunshots hovered in the air over the city while Wildcat watched the streets. He expended hardly any effort to stay concealed, the city helped him entirely in that respect. He kept as still as the gargoyle next to him and mimicked it's expression flawlessly, teeth shown, fangs bared. 

No-one noticed him, in fact they seem to ignore him. Prey reacted to movement; stay still and one was just as part of the scenery as the next statue. He continued his vigilance, it was a good view and he could keep an eye on so many people at once. 

He was a hunter and he was on the prowl again.

He has had his fair share of hunts, preferring to get up close and personal rather than kill from afar. He felt more satisfied this way. To bathe in the prey's fear and doubt, such an experience was lost through a scope. Only with hand and claw, as the life is stripped away, can one truly feel the sensation of the hunt. But right now Wildcat was on a different kind of chase.

A mate.

They were hard to attain. Many Wraith Raiders find him repulsive. In visual aspects he was near perfect, he had a lean figure, better than most of his kind on Mort. His mane of hair a deep blue and his skin was the soft colour of lavender and he went to great pains to keep himself well groomed and clean. Even under the torrent of rainfall the water just seemed to slide off his thin fur and completely avoid him. All this and still no female wanted him. 

And he knew why.

The females from Polo were all prideful and narcissistic. They thought themselves better as they had birthright and traditions on their side. He hated them as no matter what they always looked down on him. They could smell the stink of the Sectors on Wildcat, one sniff and they recoiled like he was a mongrel. Self-obsessed bitches. Well... he had shown them, dozens in fact. 

He caught a scent of a pure one, unsoiled, and still untouched by the pollutants that plagued Mort. She must be new. Fresh from Polo and straight from Meny. It was a rare find even for him. Looking down, instincts and heightened senses highlighted her out the crowd; he easily singled out the lone female Wraith Raider walking the street. She possessed the amber fur of sunsets, long fulvous hair and eyes the colour of blood, even at this distance he could make out the darker mottled fur decorating her cheeks and neck. Her blatant choice of clothing also doing little to hide the deliciously dangerous figure underneath. Wildcat could not resist such a young and tasty prey and made his choice. Like how the others had an ability to detect the reek of the Sectors on him, Wildcat had developed one for Polo in kind. He raised his snout and breathed deep filtering out the miasma of the city, the odor of men, the stink of Stormers and the stench of Shaktars. All that was left was her, and her scent was of Polo. If the cold had a scent that's what it would have been like.

Wildcat clawed his way down from the roofs and onto street level. Rooftops were just for sighting down his targets, he always enjoyed it much more stalking them from ground level. They knew he followed, just how he liked it; it got the blood flowing and the rush he felt from the chase was intoxicating. This female was very good and caught on that she was being tracked almost instantly, she quickly ducked around a corner into a confined empty alley. 

Hmm, approved Wildcat, arrogant wench thinks she can take me?

He followed her into the alley, it would be so obvious, but follow he did. 

The female continued to walk calmly down the alley and Wildcat followed in situ. She rounded a corner and drew her MAC knife and a KK 20 Panther with a deft flick of the wrist. The gun swung silently into her hands from underneath the sleeve of her jacket and she aimed it behind her with her other hand underneath for support. With both weapons pointing in front she prepared to strike at her stalker. She rounded the corner to confront him with the deadly force available to all Operatives.

The alley was empty.

"Polo" came the quiet hiss.

A heavy figure dropped from above and slammed her to the ground, both her arms were pinned down so she could not break free. She started to panic and Wildcat just relished her frightened state for a moment. Taking in her fear, feeding upon it, it just made him more aroused. Wildcat ravished her in that wet alleyway. Her legs flailed uselessly to get him off, her desperate whimpers and screams just added to the background noise of the city.

Wildcat left the sprawled naked form of the female in that alley. He had left his mark on her, biting viciously at her neck. The wounds would take time to heal, the scars will act as his brand. A constant reminder that she had been bested by an 'inferior'. He lifted his head and breathed deeply, he could detect the million of lives in this sector, in this city. More prey than he could count, more than enough for his lifetime. But for today he was done, tomorrow will promise another hunt.

Another Prey.