Knives knew he was being followed, and he knew just how to handle it. It wasn't the first time some fool had stumbled across his oasis, and he was sure it wouldn't be the last.
A flash of movement. A single shot. He trudged through the soft sand to inspect his kill. So small; he hadn't been able to tell from his distance. Black fur quickly matting with blood. Not human, but he wasn't concerned.
He smirked, holstering his gun, and remembered something Rem had said laughingly, watching him poke around the humans' cold-sleep chambers.
Curiosity killed the cat. Literally.