The song finished, and as if by permission Mithias felt the breeze again. The majority of the storm had passed, evidenced by the soft rumble of thunder downwind. He crouched on the scenic ledge and simply enjoyed the scene. A hawk bobbed its head at him from its nest several yards away. Its golden eyes matched his own, and he smiled at it. The poor creature was so blind in darkness. 

It was time to get moving. Mithias looked at the darkened bow in his hand. It would still work, but the gloss was ruined. He began to walk down the small mountain. He had been lucky, but also deft, over the years, being able to amass a small fortune in investments under various alias names. Money was so powerful. He didn't even need to show his face in person anymore due to modern technology and the internet. Makeup, disguises, old dying man stories, etc. were no longer necessary. And the best part of all was that neither lycan nor fanatical followers of the queen had been able to upset his carefully laid out structure. Both of them had the advantage of group organization however, and both had many members that could pass as human and manipulate the human world. Mithias had to do everything on his own, and in secret. Nonetheless, there wasn't a lot for him to worry about... until recently.

Werewolves had somehow jumped on the vampire-hunter bandwagon, en masse. It was as if they had decided to take the heat off themselves by targeting another immortal species. It wasn't right, it wasn't justice... and if they succeeded in wiping out every last vampire, they themselves would be the next targets. Mithias had long been contemplating the source of this anti-vampire fanaticism. Certainly, he himself had been guilty of vampire hunting, but it had been a long time since he had been so stupid. Someone had started this ridiculous fad, and it needed to end quickly, lest he would lose everyone he had ever loved. 

Mithias walked down from his beloved peaceful wilderness toward the dingy human city below.