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Soon, the evening begins to slide the fall the last of the sunbeams is soon to crash against an unavailable horizon filled with darkness whiskers trembles, wakening suddenly the old hunter's claws, redraws its new hunger while the warrior roars fluffy cushions, little paws ears aware and tail seductive there it goes eating the milky wave of stars one by one until the void of night caresses its fur... it roars softly, tenderly it asks to walk the grasses to do whatever cats do until the middle of the magic hour its eyes blink mysteriously, graciously once to her keeper then towards the hazel mist of woods where the full moon st