Nov 5th - Anyting you want.

The sleek lioness slips through tall textured grasses as naturally as water flowing through the deep stream to her side. She disturbs nothing in her path and nothing keeps her from her prey. This barely bruised pink little piggy barely a youth and completely delicious. Why should she single him out when there are far far more attractive things to devour and most likely much easier to catch? We may never know the way it works out in her mind. Some call it instinct. I call it fate. The little piggy rests in his little world. He is content. He has no understanding of the lioness and her intent. He has never encountered one like her before. Alligators and hyenas. These are familiar dangers. Masks of instinct and fear ripple through the memories of those encounters. The looping laughter and the watery hissing. How those sounds resonate into the little piggy's memories, into his muscles and even fine hair fibers. Nothing remotely similar to Her. Nothing whatsoever to remind him of those horrible teeth and claws, glazed eyes and snapping jaws. In fact this little piggy finds the lioness to be a stunning and gorgeous creature. So unlike himself and so mysterious. The initial meeting of the two beasts plays out differently, more so than any third person could possibly foresee.

The lioness has every ability of endless combination to conquer and divide ham hocks from tenderloins, innocence from stupidity. She does not even consider her precise deadliness as it's natural for her to not have to think about these things. Like the pink piggy, she too works mainly off instinct.