Returning to my initial impression of Alexander and Andre in their semi-animal form, it could be said that I had a similar impression of this being: it was like seeing a photograph of a man dressed in a fur suit, with another image pasted on top—a great feline’s head torn from the pages of a wildlife magazine. The flash in my mind was synonymous with terror. This creature did not have black fur; quite the opposite. That monster was white, its coat crossed by faint caramel-colored stripes.
All right—fine—that wasn’t a jaguar, nor a panther. It was something else, larger and more lethal.
“Johanna!” This time Alexander shouted at me more harshly when he saw that I wasn’t moving.
I reacted very slowly, I suppose, because it felt like it took me an eternity to crawl out from under the table
