“Ou-ah-tah tick, tick, tick, dlerbh,” [b]It[/b] saw a convenient meal approaching the tree line some thirty meters away from the tree where it had been lurking in wait for just such an opportunity as this. Small things they were, hardly a fitting hunt for a God. They were however intelligent enough, having reached the barely higher than base animal understanding of crude tools of stone and wood and having developed the basic hunting patterns necessary to pass the requirements of the Clan, and so they were fit to serve as [b]It’s[/b] rite of passage to Hish-qu-Ten. [b]It[/b] would make it bad for these balls of glowing fluff unfit to serve even as meat to the Clan and yet somehow chosen as [b]It’s[/b] rightful and necessary prey. [b]It[/b] would ensure that they would know fear. The fear of the unseen hunter in the wood. The fear of God. [b]It[/b] could not be certain that they were incapable of smelling [b]It[/b] out at a close distance. The furred species were often possessed of a highly developed capacity for smell. [b]It[/b] could however be reasonably certain that they would not see [b]It[/b] coming. The device used by the Yautja to disguise the hunters was advanced enough to keep most anything from seeing them coming without the benefit of some kind of artificial technology, usually dependent on the possession of something from far beyond this galaxy. Unless they were carrying something [b]It[/b] had not noticed despite the several passages around the outskirts of the camp then it could be nearly entirely sure. [b]It[/b] was not willing to settle for nearly sure. [b]It[/b] would know the innate gifts and artificial constructs of the fur balls. [b]It[/b] went branch by branch, tree by tree over towards the fur balls approaching the outskirts of the supposed safety of their camp. Could [b]It[/b] have broken a branch, sent an audible signal to the fur balls that something lurked in the woods? Of course. [b]It[/b] also knew that they were not the only living things in this forest or on this planet. All manner of living things made their homes in these trees, and the breaking of a branch hardly surprised those used to living among a web of towering forest so thick as to block out view of the horizon. [b]It[/b] was of a species more used to swamp than forest, but [b]It[/b] was concerned not with remaining silent, but with remaining undetected. Noise was normal, even to be expected. When things became truly quiet it set the lizard brain to a panic, alerted a base instinct in the living to seek out the predator which had set the noisily industrious insects and other species to their forced, artificial seeming silence. If not noticed through some advanced technology or highly developed capacity for smell [b]It[/b] would make way over to the fur balls, never once touching the earth below. Their traps were laughably technologically backwards, but [b]It[/b] had no intentions of being hit from right and left by falling trees or crushed from above by a boulder suspended by plant fiber ropes set to break against intruder's skulls. Would these things kill [b]It[/b]? Perhaps not, but they would certainly force [b]It[/b] to give up the hunt and retreat to the safety of [b]It’s[/b] recon ship, something that would prove [b]It[/b] was not meant to be Hish-qu-Ten and definitively force [b]It[/b] to accept that the Gods among Gods would forever lord over [b]It[/b]. Should [b]It[/b] manage not to set off any traps or be noticed as it approached, [b]It[/b] would suspend via tree branches and [b]It’s[/b] feet just above the fur balls, or as close to it as was possible given the terrain which would likely be near enough to reach out and grab them seeing as the things lived in tree villages, and [b]It[/b] would wait and see. Seeing was everything to the predator regardless of it’s species. Should these beings notice as [b]It[/b] was suspended a foot, two, even three above them and turn to fleeing [b]It[/b] would reach out, grab them by the bases of their skulls and smash them into one another, or should they move far enough away use it’s retractable clawed gauntlets or even a thrown weapon or blaster to ensure that they did not make it back to the village alive. More importantly than killing them, however, was to see what they were capable of. [b]It[/b] was for all intents and purposes a shadow. [b]It[/b] should not be visible to these beings, and if they noticed based upon [b]It’s[/b] smell it would be telling indeed. They in that case would have to be hunted in a different manner than if they could not smell the predator in the wood, would have to be taken from downwind and with more care and precision than [b]It[/b] was expecting. These were all assumptions on [b]It’s[/b] part, and though valid must be backed up with evidence as is the way of a hunter. Once [b]It[/b] knew the capabilities of the beings [b]It[/b] could better hunt them, and math was the true science of the kill. Should [b]It[/b] be able to predict the beings patterns, movements, and their sensory awareness with absolute certainty than [b]It[/b] would be one step closer to ensuring a successful hunt. Should [b]It[/b] run in screaming and blasting, tearing the fur balls limb from limb before [b]It[/b] had the understanding necessary to grasp what they were capable of [b]It[/b] might well walk face first into a seemingly stone age tribe that happened to have access to advanced weaponry and for all [b]It[/b] knew the kind of artificial sensors necessary to train a plasma sprayer at [b]It’s[/b] center of mass from a half mile away. This was not a risk [b]It[/b] would knowingly walk into, and so if not noticed before reaching the trees above the fur balls it would attempt to lean over them hanging from [b]It’s[/b] feet as close to within arm’s reach as [b]It[/b] could get depending on the terrain, prepared to strike the moment it noticed hesitation on the part of the fur balls. Otherwise [b]It[/b] would watch and wait, the true goal being to gather evidence as to whether the fur balls could smell it from a few feet away.