Define for me, Hunter and Prey
It was cold, colder than it normally was. Gotham winters did not normally come like this, the snow was the same but the bitter wind was not. It was so very, very cold… glossy eyes looked down at shaking hands. His tattered gloves were in desperate need of repair. He needed money or something of value to get more clothes though. Those bastards at the charities would just try to force him into wearing underwear again or let the police beat on him and the thugs were always taking his money for more bliss and a dog he was sure was sent by the military peed on him last week and…
Ding.
The front door to the restaurant he was near opened. He poked his head out of the cardboard box, shifting aside a blanket. The air was even colder out here. Licking his winter-chapped lips he spied a tall thin mop. Human. He spied a tall thin human. That walked down the sidewalk, alone. As he shifted more of the blanket out of the way and started to get up the young man stopped. His head turned to look down the dark alleyway.
He felt frozen to the bone. If winter did not kill him this young man would. Instincts made him back down. The human mop carried on down the sidewalk.
He could wait for the next wandering passerby once it got darker. He could just take their clothes, maybe they would give him leftovers too. He did not like Italian leftovers, he had no way to heat them unless he bothered Bill at the other end of the alleyway. Bill was a dick.
Ding.
The front door had opened again. He'd not gone all the way back inside to what little warmth there was behind the blankets and cardboard. Curiosity had him investigate, this time it was a woman. Shorter and more like a mouse. She was carrying a backpack. That's probably where she kept her leftovers. He slowly stood and started his way out of the alley. The soft snow made his shuffles silent, he fidgeted as he crept closer. When was a good time to say something? He did not want to startle her, just take her clothes and her food.
"Holly, I've been waiting for you," someone else was there? The human mop had called out to her from the bus stop not far down the sidewalk. No, no, if the young man got to her first he could not get even her leftovers. They would just gang up on him like the charities, policemen and thugs did. The woman began to slow some, he was almost there within touching distance, "hurry up we'll miss our bus," The young man's eyes weren't looking at her. They were upon him and they froze the man to the spot for a moment, "home."
Home? Home, they knew each other. He backed up a step. The young mop that could kill him was the brother of the mouse? The lover? If he wanted to snatch her for her clothes and food he'd be the one taken and murdered. He fled cautiously back into the alleyway as he heard her call out confirming they knew each other at the very least, "Oh shoot, sorry Johnny I'm late!"