.Wild Cry.The night glittered with the silence of creatures asleep and unaware. They rested in their hollowed holes and woven wings, dreaming of days gone by; days long past. Offspring moved on, to create offspring on their own. Occassionally one might fall to old age, sickness, or the sharpened jowls of another...but of the three, only one can be changed.
As light softened the sky, and the sun overtook the moon, everyone stirred to begin the day anew.
One, however, prowled the shifting shadows, in search of his quarry. He did not know Its name, or what shape It would be in - all he knew was when he spotted It, he would know. So he continued the search again and again - day after day, night after night. He was relentless and ruthless, until finally he caught the scent.
With eyes bright, and muzzle raised to the sky, he let out a wild cry which sent all the Creatures of the Land to lower their heads in relief that the Hunter found his Mark, and it was not them.
