Canadian Lynx

At our zoo there is a Canadian Lynx who paces furiously in his habitat. Around and around it makes a quick, decisive, somewhat circular path around his cage. It has the strangest step, a lilting, prancing feel to the way it walks that makes you think it could pounce on you or preferably something inside its cage at any given moment if it chose to do so. As it steps, its head bobs slightly forward, almost like a chicken would walk, but much more crafty and subtle. Pacing around and around, it has an almost hypnotic effect on those watching it. There is something truly eery about the way it looks straight ahead, never deviating from its path, eyes set apart, wide open, tongue hanging out slightly to the side, lips parted ever so gently like a small child with a sinus infection. I imagine it must have sharp teeth, maybe big teeth, and an untrustworthy disposition. Even though it is much smaller than the docile lions who sleep nearby on their shelf inside a separate cage at the zoo, I would be much more terror stricken if the lynx was on the loose.