You've walked these floors

[Brennt]

The predator had remained awake through the first dream and on into the second. It had known even through the death of its first foe that the combat was not over. On some instinctive level it understood that what it saw was not wholly real. It would fight, but its senses were returning contradictory information, and it was confused. As the fog began to clear, and it realized that it was in a human structure that was not its own, it began to shift upward. Thick muscle bulged beneath its growing arms and legs, and its skin and bones stretched to accommodate them. Slowly, the scent of another inside the structure wafted through the old blood stains and smell of old, dead wood. Dried blood was somewhere here, as well. Its senses were alive and alert, and its claws stretched out, hooked and black from its five fingers.

The hunter's yellow eyes focused forward to the doorway where it felt its enemy approaching. Its lips pulled back from its curved fangs as it pushed itself onto two legs. Its bulky frame tensed with readiness as the creaking floor betrayed movement beyond, its brown fur standing straight up and undisturbed in the musty, windless room. Soon, the blood of victory would stain its teeth and claws, and its muscles would burn with the familiar strain of battle. Its heart-rate increased as did its breathing. Battle was coming. Battle was coming and it would be ready. This creature sought to kill it...they would be tested soon. Whose will to live was greater?