A Fantasy

The night was chilly. I remained still, refusing to shiver. Any movement would be heard by the preternatural prey I stalked. Even my breathing was slow and regulated, so as not to mist in the unnaturally cold air-though my heart wanted to hammer its way out of my chest. My body wanted to fidget, every instinct telling me to move, to do something, preferably to run away, but I waited. Listening. Watching. The chattering noise echoed through the trees, and I knew I had struck proverbial gold. Excitement threatened to force my breathing into irregular gasps, but I remained controlled. The wind carried their shrill voices-the strange, animalistic language resonating through the interwoven branches overhead-and I knew they were coming closer. I dared to turn my head, ever so slowly, to peer around the tree trunk that was my camouflage. Two pairs of glowing eyes, the only parts of the creatures visible in the limited light, were bouncing in my direction. I would have only seconds. They