Geelie wasn't hungry, so, though she could have taken the hunter easily, she made no move to. She simply hovered above him in the night thick fog, basking in the lovely scent of flesh, bone and blood, and the overlay of sweaty male musk.
Something about the man seemed familiar. Geelie dropped down a bit, studying him as he cautiously traversed the clearing. When she finally placed the memory, she had to clamp her hands over her mouth to hold in her delight.
This man carried the scent of the prey that had gotten away from her two nights ago!