Hoof prints in the Marsh

1

Click click, click click;
Tiny hoof prints on the marshes of the timberland.
Click click, click click;
The scent is inviting. Innocent and earthy. A nice meal he would make.
Click cli-;
Adrenaline pulses through your neck to your head, you've been sensed. No time to waste, just do it. But you can't. What if he's going back home? To family? To children?
Click click click click...
The tiny hoofs scamper across the moss, growing faint in the distance. He's gone. Another night, another empty stomach.