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Description
Watching her is like prey watching the predator.  A delicate game of cat and mouse, where the mouse gains equal footing only as far as the cat lets it.  Always seems to be in the palm of her hands, the mouse is friend and prey at the same time.  Which way will she advance this time?  Puzzled, yet amused the mouse follows her along.  Quick to run as she bares her fangs, though in tease, she laughs and gives chase, only to catch the mouse again.  A few quips and smirks and the mouse is the cat, but only for a brief moment.

She always holds the advantage.  Knows what cheese the mouse desires, dangling in front only to pull away.  A pet on the head and all is normal.  But she is not a cat, and he not a mouse.  Though he is older than her by a marginal amount of years, she holds her own as one above his age.  Thus he yields, and in part of her allure, mind and body.

Cautiously walking a fine line in his mind on whether or not he becomes the tiny mouse again or equal prey.  But while prey, he is never hunted.  What fun is that?  But that what makes the game so interesting, as to watch him walk into the den, or allow himself to be pounced upon her whims.  Even so, it is a good balance between them.

Does the mouse want more from it? Yes.  Does the cat want more, he cannot tell, or does not want to assume.  In the end, is the mouse truly the mouse with this laxness around her?  Is she being the predator?  One does not know, but one thing is true, he wouldn't let it be any less than where things stand now.  Just long as he avoids her favorite pointy, and sharp friend.

Description
Watching her is like prey watching the predator.  A delicate game of cat and mouse, where the mouse gains equal footing only as far as the cat lets it.  Always seems to be in the palm of her hands, the mouse is friend and prey at the same time.  Which way will she advance this time?  Puzzled, yet amused the mouse follows her along.  Quick to run as she bares her fangs, though in tease, she laughs and gives chase, only to catch the mouse again.  A few quips and smirks and the mouse is the cat, but only for a brief moment.

She always holds the advantage.  Knows what cheese the mouse desires, dangling in front only to pull away.  A pet on the head and all is normal.  But she is not a cat, and he not a mouse.  Though he is older than her by a marginal amount of years, she holds her own as one above his age.  Thus he yields, and in part of her allure, mind and body.

Cautiously walking a fine line in his mind on whether or not he becomes the tiny mouse again or equal prey.  But while prey, he is never hunted.  What fun is that?  But that what makes the game so interesting, as to watch him walk into the den, or allow himself to be pounced upon her whims.  Even so, it is a good balance between them.

Does the mouse want more from it? Yes.  Does the cat want more, he cannot tell, or does not want to assume.  In the end, is the mouse truly the mouse with this laxness around her?  Is she being the predator?  One does not know, but one thing is true, he wouldn't let it be any less than where things stand now.  Just long as he avoids her favorite pointy, and sharp friend.