Her skin is hot and soft giving easily to my grip. She pushes me off and we crouch like wild dogs mad with bloodlust. Blood trickles down my arm as sh... deftly swipes a dagger. I grab my own and the steel shrieks as we dance with death. She is quick as the cobra and we each draw blood. I admire her body, as it seems to glide through the air, the world seems to slow down as our blades sing in the desert air. She overextends and my blade finds her throat. She goes rigid with the touch of cold. Faycats are perhapsunique in hunting without either instinct or parental training to guidethem. They have to teach themselves how to hunt. Not only must they acquireall hunting techniques on their own, but they also must learn by themselvesthe magic that enables them to hunt at all . . . . From: MythicanPredators, pp. 35, 36. Part I It was mid-morning when Mama announced that her milk had given out. Arguswas thinking to himself how nice his next drag on one of her dugs would be—justa. More

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