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The Prey

Silver moonlight stared at a gray body, hidden in the bushes, when unexpectedly the prey moved to fast. The attacker tilted back on it's legs, and leaped into the still air. The mouse tried to run, but only to be chased. In a thunder of paws and claws, it was quiet. The cat had gotten it's prey.


These are basicly pointless, but I love writing poems. This one is not my best BY FAR. Poems about warriors? I'm not Robert Frost, these arn't easy, give me some credit! At least I'm trying!