The rain pounded against the pavement, drumming out a rhythm that threatened to drown the city's frantic energy. I crouched, sited, and took aim at the next bag of trash. The one that held the prize - a juicy burger, uneaten and untouched. My eyes locked onto it, my trained senses honed in, and my mouth watered in anticipation. I pounced, dashing across the alleyway, and snatched the bag from its perch. The sweet smell wafted up, and I tore into it with gleeful abandon, shoveling the still-warm meat into my mouth. I chewed, savoring every bite, the tang of rain and trash fading into the background as I lost myself in the primal pleasure of eating. For a moment, the streets, the cars, the people receded, and all that remained was me, a wild thing, living in the raw, feral joy of the hunt.