Things had been strange. Strange in the way it was when a new predator arrived to try and claim territory, or strange in the way it was when prey learned new tactics. His viciousness always paid off in the end, and the intruder was driven off or the prey was outsmarted and killed, but this was different. Someone was leaving things for him. He didn't mind the food, but the someone left objects too. Items. He thought at first they were trophies, maybe an attempt for the prey to dissuade his attacks. They'd done that before and it hadn't worked; he could not be appeased.

There was something about these items though. They grated on him like skin on rust. He had taken to collecting some of them, the ones that made sounds, and leaving them in piles in his numerous dens.

The piles were oddly comfortable to sleep in.

He had even seen the someone who was leaving the food and things for him. The fish-smelling creature he had almost killed before.

He couldn't be appeased, but he could be bored or full or uninterested. Whatever it was, he decided not to attack this one again. This one was curious. Interesting to watch. He wanted to know why this one left things for him. He had strange things protecting him as well, that light that hurt; it wouldn't do to underestimate this one again.

The prey creature has returned again. Food again, and more items. The beast clung to the ceiling and watched him, rumbling a little from the shadows.