Shy Deer Steppes in the junkyard, it's every dog for himself.

Thin air might've dizzied some, but it served to help the stationary puma focus. Pinned down against the granite and pumice hues of the steppe, the cat lay in wait as the sheep grazed closer and closer. His breaths were soft and slow. The only motion that might've been noticed was the light stammer of his pinprick pupils as he gazed from one animal to the next. 

Not long ago the sheep, bleating, had hurried in his direction- spooked by something, perhaps. And while they were still cautious and alert he would wait, bide his time...

A sudden uproar- the sound of hooves clacking against stone, of small rocks being sent skittering down the slopes and helpless bleating- but over that, a growl. The puma scowled and lifted his noble head. Someone else, something canine, had spooked the prey he'd been watching, waiting for. 

Out of spite, he didn't feel inclined to let the time he'd spent waiting go to waste. Let the wolves preoccupy themselves with frenzying the herd- with the sheep distracted by their long, snapping jaws, he had the perfect chance now to make his own move. 

At first he was a silk ribbon spilling smoothely over the stone, the line of his spine hardly showing that he took any strides at all. But once he closed the gap he froze for a moment, and then began to bound. The magnificent creature advanced on a small clutch of sheep that had been herded in his direction by the pincer move of the wolves- and in huge, ground-eating leaps he burst forth to descend upon them.