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Through the fog and through the moss, she creeps like a ghostly snake. Her bright white pelt a godly sight and paws accented with glistening claws. She comes and goes as she pleases just like the deadliest disease. Like the Influenza.
Stalking through the undergrowth, the shape moved around with great agility. Its steps were light and never left a trace. Its scent was gone as soon as it appeared. This cat was a master of stealth,creeping on her prey. Other cats of course.
They never saw her until they looked up and caught their dying breath and knew they lost to a cat that had already died.
"We'll share tounges in Hell," would be the last thing they hear. Then darkness and tranquility until they reached the other side.
This cat was dangerous, as her name implied. Influenza, the huntress, and she wanted someone to train.