[@DeadlyPhoenix]


The night was cold; unseasonably cold for a mid-summer's night. He stood crouched in the tree canopies as he watched the animals below. Most were heading for their beds, while the nocturnal ones began to emerge. His dark hair hung over his deep red eyes as the moon casted his shadow on the ground below. It had been roughly 3 weeks since the last time he fed, he was due time. His stomach rumbled with agony as he scanned the animals for a decent sized meal. The only thing even appetizing was the white-tailed deer that had decided to graze at the base line. His fingers traced the outline of his knife as he slowly removed it from it's pouch. With great procesion and patience, he slung it. The blade penetrated deep within the creature's neck, giving it no time to react before he jumped to the ground and it fell dead. "Poor creature," he mumbled as he stood over it.