It was a dark and stormy night when Feyre went out to the woods to hunt. She needed to hunt. Because she was hungry, and because her stupid family was also hungry and so inept that the only solution for Feyre was to go out and do it by herself. But, besides all of that, because she was a cat, and she was made for it.
She liked to feel how her body tensed on the run. The emotion of reaching the prey. The warmth of the fresh blood around her paws. It was her happy place. The only moment when she was herself.
She used to hunt every night. Despite the good or bad weather, like that night. There were no stars in the sky. Only clouds and the promise of lightning and thunder. That made it exciting. She was aiming for a challenge. She was fed up of hearing all the meows and prrs and hisses and growls at home. She wanted to think of anything else than the misery she lived.
There was a sound in the distance. Some steps of a great body. She sensed it was heavy but fluent, tired but elegant (Feyre had a really good hearing, and she could define any noise with the precise words; it was of no use, but it was fun). It wasn't a mouse, that was for sure, nor a bird. Almost sure it was not a rabbit. The last time a rabbit was near her… well, it was not a day to remember.
She hid in the bushes, waiting for her prey, attentive to the wind. She felt it was approaching and she was ready to jump and shatter it immediately. Well, not really shatter it, just kill it with some bites and swipes to get some consistent parts to Nesta and Elain and her father. Those stupid pricks were famished. Always. Hope she can run away someday. Not to worry if they starved.
But then, a lightning bolt fell and the creature appeared in all his majesty. It was huge. A huge and enormous orange cat with stripes and whiskers so long she was sure he could feel everything around the woods. It will be hard to beat him. But she had to do it. So she walked to the big cat to confront him. Something inside of Feyre was telling her it was her destiny to do it (since she was young, Feyre heard voices in her head, and she learnt soon she had to listen to them carefully because they usually were right).
Another lightning bolt fell, and the great cat collapsed just in front of Feyre. That night they were going to dinner roasted meat.