Game On.

Victory

Cat ran at the lion, shrieking her head off. The lion paused for a moment, temporarily disoriented by the small, fiery haired creature who dared attack it.
A moment was all Cat needed. She threw herself onto its back, clinging on as it bucked against her.
"Oh, come on, Cat, be original! Not everything's a Jabberwocky!" Yelled Talitha from the stands.
Cat, distracted by her shout, felt her grip on the lions coat loosen, and before she knew it, she was on the floor, glancing her head a stunning blow on the dirt. The creature bore down on her, maw dripping with saliva, eyes bright with the thrill of the hunt.
As her imminent demise bore down on her, Cat struggled to control her breathing. She wasn't going to panic. She made a point of never panicking.
The creature drew close, it's foul breath blowing into her face.
In a final last-ditch effort she kicked her foot up, catching it a blow across the face.
Then she dived, skidding under the lions body, and took of at a run to the grate.
She knew the beast was on her tail, hunting it's prey. Hunting was fine. Catching was a problem.
She reached the grate, grabbing one of the metal bars, she pulled herself up, climbing it like a ladder.
Reaching the top, the creature snapped at her heels. Damn it's size, it made it that much harder to escape.
But height was an advantage, particularly with the little treasure she'd found whilst climbing.
The lion roared below her, snapping at her feet so she swiftly yanked them up out of the way.
Then she put her plan into action. She fell forwards, onto its head, in one motion driving the large rusty nail she'd yanked out of the gate deep into its neck, before sliding off onto the ground.
The beast whined in pain and sunk to the ground, dissolving into shadows.
She had won.