When I die, I'll let go

The forest was alive around her, teeming with the energy of nocturnal creatures who had slumbered all day and now came to live under the silvery moonlight. Within the chorus of whispers and rustles, Absinth prowled with one singular focus – that of a predator honing in on her prey. Her monochromatic form moved with all the grace of a feline, which was pretty ironic given her quarry. She sensed it – heard it, a faint rustle, a fleeting shadow darting through the underbrush. The scent of the tiger, musky and primal, tantalized her, fueling the fire of her excitement. A grin curled the edges of her lips as Absinth surged forward, her agile form slicing through the darkness like an ivory and charcoal wraith.

As she pursued her target, a thrill coursed through her veins – a heady rush of adrenaline and instinct that set her senses ablaze; just the way she liked it. Each footfall echoed with the promise of the chase, and her heart beat with the anticipation of the kill. The forest was her playground, and she reveled in the exhilaration it brought her. And then, she saw it at last – a flash of orange and black, the unmistakable silhouette of her elusive prey. With a wicked cackle that reverberated through the night, Absinth unleashed her full speed, her emerald eyes blazing with intense determination.

The tiger turned to face its pursuer with a snarl, its amber gaze locking onto Absinth's with an ferocity that mirrored her own. But there was no hesitation in Absinth's movements as it whirled to face her, no fear in her heart – only the pure, unadulterated joy of the thrill. With a ruthless leap, she launched herself towards her prey, her claws outstretched and her fangs bared in a savage grin. She collided with the beast, and they writhed on the ground in a mess of fur and rage.

wormwood