going in circles

His gaze catches that of a smaller, older male burro off toward the side. Grazing lazily with a lame stilt to its walk. Plenty easy enough for him to leap upon and take down without much effort. Shifting slowly, careful not to shift the grass that he hid in too much, he readies himself. The herd of burro are ignorant of the massive beast stalking them. Stomach growling, shoulders hunching, he's about to pounce when a few of the donkeys lift their heads.

Stopping and looking as well, Raumr's amber gaze freezes on the small feline that emerges from the brush. Casual, languid steps take the Maine Coon to a stump in the middle of the herd. Not a single burro is phased by the cat for good reason. The tom was far too small to take one down by himself. A brow of his rises in question. Was this... a challenge? Did this cat believe he would be deterred from hunting just because he had appeared?

Huffing quietly, he turns his attention back to the lame burro. Nestling into the grasses, Raumr once more repositions himself, waiting a few more moments until the donkeys have resettled into their grazing routine. Just a few minutes of distraction, nothing that was deterring for the male. Then, his opportunity was there.

Erupting from the grass once the lame burro had its back turned on Raumr, he raced forward. Kicking up his heels, pushing as fast as he can go, he gives the burro chase. One eye still on the tom, hoping the cat wouldn't get under paw.

Raumr Regalus, the Third