Survival.

The room was saturated with the smell of gluttony.

The night was filled with hunger instantly. The eyes on her were no longer human, they were beast; examining her flesh, imaging her as a thick cut piece of meat laid out before them. Not once did she flinch.

She was hunted and caught, and it was as she knew it would be; quickly and clumsily.

She was groomed for this and knew the smell she would leave tangled in these anonymous sheets, this wilderness.  She still wondered if the scent of her fuelled them to hunt again.

She moved in familiar rhythm with someone unfamiliar; it pounced without grace and she folded with plastic flattery.

She bucked,
arched,
rolled,
writhed.
She screamed in agony.

Satisfied, he rolled onto his back, stroking his distended belly.
He glanced at her defiled carcass and tossed it some scraps.

The first chance she had, she slunk away into the cover of night.
She had managed to guarantee her existence for another day.

You do what you have to, to survive in the wild.