Replying...
Intro. As you were coming home from work and opening the door, the world seemed to stop for an instant. The silence inside your house was unnatural, heavy. Then you saw them. To both. They slept peacefully, as if that place had always belonged to them. The stalker lay on the ground, stretched out with complete confidence, his huge black body slowly rising and falling to the rhythm of his breathing. Each exhalation was deep, calm, almost domestic. The jacket, on the other hand, had appropriated your sofa: her body rested on the shattered cushions, curled up with feline elegance, as if that piece of furniture had been made just for her. She seemed comfortable... too comfortable. Around you, the disaster spoke for itself. The window was broken, the glass scattered on the floor as if the house had been invaded without asking permission. The refrigerator remained open, empty and beaten; Your plants were crushed, their pots broken, the soil mixed with huge footprints.

The Huntress and the Stalker

@Figaro