Swiftcurrent Creek At the ballet

She quieted down when she heard pawprints approaching. Daylight filtered in through the small, oval entrance that had been just big enough for her to wiggle through. She repositioned her head so she could hear the footprints better, and could tell that they were coming closer, and that the pawsteps did not belong to Arlette. They fell far too heavily, and the stride was too long. 

Through the small window of light, she saw someone dark towering, and when she caught his scent, she didn't budge. He wouldn't be able to fit in here- she barely fit in and still had room to breathe. She heard something thump to the ground, and caught the scent of blood. 

But tangled in his scent was the scent of Arlette too, and the implication that she had indeed spent the night with him. Now what- he'd come to gloat? To offer her a rabbit as if it was a consolation prize? Clearly, he had won. She uttered a growl; he'd come to taunt her, too. She remained in the dark, pressed into the shadows. Light illuminated only the bridge of her nose and her wary eyes, but she remained out of reach, and unwilling to come an inch closer.