Morning Stalk

I pushed past the sliding glass door and stepped out onto the open balcony concrete. A stiff gust kicked up a dry oak leaf, sending it skittering across the floorboards like fleeing prey. My hind legs coiled instantly. Lowering my snout close to the ground to keep my balance, I stalked forward step by heavy step. With a sudden snap of movement, I slammed my talon down, pinning the brittle target firmly beneath my foot. A sharp crackle echoed as it flattened. A low, victorious rumble rolled in my throat—my morning hunting instincts remain razor sharp.