Monomad: A Flower for the Predator

I knew she loved flowers. Even though I knew her as a predator, her femininity was still there.

As I handed her a flower, she jumped up and clutched it. I could feel her breath; she inhaled deeply and lost herself in the aroma, forgetting she was a predator for a moment.

I looked at her with emotion. Maybe she wanted to say, "Thank you." She had never received flowers from anyone, not even a male jumper.