Who| Some and Susannah (and Cuthbert?), and an open thread before if anyone wants to catch him tracking.
What| Some's last days in the Arena, and his death.
Where| Various.
When| Week 6
Warnings/Notes| Discussion of maneating. Graphic descriptions of injuries. Mercy-killing. Some will only track humans, but anyone can come across him doing so.

Open

A sixth week. Some rarely made it so far. There was something, after all, to the tactic of simply holing up and only venturing out and back in short excursions, or from hideout to hideout. He missed his spot on the whale model; it had been almost comfortable. It had also been almost directly below the volcano.

But he thought about shelter less and less, now. And food, more and more. Of those left in the arena, he knew more or less how many were human. He found himself, when he was near exhaustion and his will was weakest, casting around for their scents, creeping on all eight to follow them while conserving strength. It felt good to simply follow, catching scent off the floor, finding things his prey (no, not prey, he was not a predator) had touched. He would catch himself, sooner or later, and barricade himself into a corner to rest, but before then, nearly every day, there was a period when he could almost have imagined himself hunting in a pack with his siblings, as he had never done at home.


For Susannah

By the end of the week, there had been near calls. Some knew he should cut this all short. But he hadn't quite worked up the will yet. He was being still more careful tonight, with a scrap of stolen clothing from the wax-people floor tied across his face to mask distracting scents as he carefully, quietly slipped onto the darkened Fifth Floor. His claws had gotten long, and he walked carefully, silently so as not to click, making a weaving path for one of the water fountains.