Hunter... or Hunted?Mature

Falcon keeps low as he moves through the trees, both not to stir any prey and to avoid becoming prey himself. He crouches in a thicket, holding perfectly still - a skill he has learned to perfect over the years. This isn't the first time he's been hunting, but it's his first time without backup. The forest seems pretty harmless so far, but he knows better than to judge by appearances.

He waits for what feels like an eternity before he spots something rustling in the bushes nearby. Falcon turns slowly, trying to keep his movements as slow and inconspicuous as possible. Something is rummaging about in a bush just off to his left, probably not much bigger than a fox. Falcon flattens himself onto his stomach and waits, sword lying in the dirt under his fingers, the other digging into the ground, ready to spring. A small rodent-like creature appears from the undergrowth. Falcon has never seen anything like it in his life; it's about the size of a rabbit, but it's ears are short and round and a pair of large, shiny eyes peer out above a ridiculously long nose. It's four pawed feet scrabble in the dirt, the tip of the long nose twitching as it hunts for its quarry. Must be some sort of insect eater, Falcon thinks. Still, it looks edible, and he doubts it'll tear him to pieces.

Raising himself carefully into a half-crouch, Falcon moves forward slightly. The little creature doesn't seem to notice, it continues snuffling in the undergrowth. Falcon creeps closer still, watching the creature, trying not to stir the ground too much. The rodent-creature pricks its ears and stops. Falcon freezes where he is, unmoving save for his carefully controlled breathing. Then he sees it. On the very edge of his peripheral vision, something large is crouching in the grass. Falcon doesn't dare turn to get a closer look, but he can feel it watching him. The rodent forgotten, Falcon begins to creep backwards, the hairs on the back of his neck rising. Whatever is watching him stays where it is, he can feel it's gaze making the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He grips his sword tighter, ready to fight if the need should arise. Once back in the cover of the thicket, he raises himself to his knees and looks around. The shape is gone now, but something tells him it hasn't gone far.

Well, he thinks, this hasn't quite gone according to plan...

The End

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