Blackfeather Woods In my field of paper flowers

The unspecified creature darted in panic; it's trail sporadic as it attempted to outrun death. Unfortunately for the animal, death was hot in pursuit, and it was only a matter of time until it would be brought down. But being brought down wouldn't mean a quick death for it, no, it would take time and agony to draw out its final breath. 

Atshen was starting to feel impatient with the hunt. This excursion was taking much longer than he had anticipated and he was just ready to get to the fun part: the torture. Without much warning, Atshen flung himself forward with outstretched paws, his impatience getting the better of him. He only did realize that doing this was a bad idea when the Silencer realized that he was in mid-air, seeing that he had aimed himself short of the perfect pounce.