Panther slinks around synapses, keyboards, electrons, storage units in her black velvet catsuit. It is darkest just before dawn you know, and that is when she hunts the back alleys of sleeping minds.
"I hear the secrets that you keep...when you're talking in your sleep."
There are many tasty strands here in the Wetweb, just asking to be devoured, digested and shit back out. Prima Materia. And no one is safe from Panther.
Show me all the doorways into you. Give me the keys to the kingdom. ⤓