This time, he had been ready. With Frank's mind turned completely to run on instinct, it was easy for Scar to take the advantage of the high ground for himself. He lunged to the opposite side of the stairs, catching himself on the railing. Any lightheadedness from loss of blood was easily ignored as he dashed farther up the stares.

Scar turned to watch the thing that had just leaped for him. Human or not, it was still Frank. Or, at least, it would turn back into Frank come morning. Scar would sooner die than kill Frank. He highly doubted he could win against the cat anyway, in this shape. The glance back was to make sure he was uninjured in the fall.

That was why he made his way up the stairs. Perhaps he could lead the beast away from the first floor, where most of the other patients were concentrated.