There was another thought when she was so very close to me, a strange working of memory. I thought of a particular lion hunt many years ago. You're moving through the tall grass, getting a glimpse of the prey, the shoulders mostly, the mane. You prepare your rifle. You're very quiet. And then there's a moment. The wind changes, the grass stops swaying. The lion turns, looks at you. The moment you realize you are no longer the hunter, you are the prey.
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