She moved her feet with nervous precision, though she knew silence gave her no advantage here. Still, she placed step after step not daring a glance in any other direction, uneasier with every passing second.
He was stalking her. In the dark recesses he occupied, only his eyes reflected what little light there was, like a prowling wolf on a moonless night. He could have reached out and touched her ghost-white shoulder, but he knew how futile that would be. In another life, he would have, but that was over long ago. And to give that kind of courtesy was too human.
But this; this wasn't about things like accuracy or power. Those were just skills to be endlessly honed. Everything rested on timing; something a person could spend an entire lifetime studying and never get right. Anyone else would have pounced, anticipating the next moment and the one afterward. But it wasn't about those moments; just the one. More than anything, it was an art.
He crept like a giant spider expertly covered in shadow; his senses attuned to every rise and fall of her chest. And he could wait.