Curiosity Kills

The caves were safe. They had been his home, his lair, his refuge for the past week or so. Away from the outside world, where danger dwelled in every crack and crevice. Away from the light, exposing him to his enemies, determined to do him harm. He found comfort in the coldness, in the narrow pathways, in his own echoes that bounced along the walls. He was alone in this dark, subterranean world.

Until she arrived.

He was always alert, jittery, on the balls of his feet. He never rested, let his guard down, zoned out for even a minute. His ears had adjusted to the eerie silence of the caverns, the distant trickling of water and his own breaths. The slow patter of pawsteps were registered almost instantly, the realisation dragging him to his paws and fuelling the adrenaline in his body. He had prepared himself for such a day when they would find him, send a hunter to track him down. But he wasn't going to let them get him. He swiftly slithered through the gaps in the cavern walls and silently glided further down into the tunnels, never staying in one stone room for more than a few heartbeats.