My mate, James, used to say I was like a cat.
Not a house cat. Not a demure little kitten. A feral cat, a wild animal, uninhibited by any sort of pathetic human social confines. We go where we want, do what we want, kill who we want. There are no rules, no limits.
Complete, total freedom.
We revel in it. One with nature, top of the food chain, the most skilled and deadly predators on earth. It's so easy to kill, so simple; sometimes we have to make it a game. Laurent thinks it's silly, but James and I. . . we loved it. Hide and seek was our favorite.
And now my James is dead, and his murderers are after me. Ha.
James was the best seeker there ever was. But no one can hide like me.
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