Quarry

The slope-nosed glynth swiveled gray-furred ears at the sound of something scurrying through the blue twilight shadows of the dusty old arena on the outskirts of Alhira.
Something edible? Maybe.
It lowered its sleek form into a four-legged crouch, bottlebrush tail twitching, and started skulking toward the north wall. Above, three of Demaria’s nine moons gleamed among the twinkling stars through the oval opening of the gladiator stadium.
The glynth fluttered its sand-filtering gills as it descended pale stone steps into the old preparation chamber, past a cracked marble statue of a one-handed felinoid noble.
In the darkness, its silver eyes gleamed amber. It spied the big-eared, long-tailed rodent just before the jest’leanha caught wind of the glynth.
Time enough to pounce.