With wings folded like an ignored canvas, the dark kalona male marched through the lush meadows as the day fell into twilight. He had enough of the wind and sky for the day, and found it an odd if not convenient mode of transport to simply trot across the earth. A fair exercise to his legs, and it was always amusing to see what sort of creatures he could startle out of the grass as well. His tail tip had already been painted red with the various raccoons or field mice that he had already crossed paths with. If anything, they were easier meals to come by, rather than hunting other winged creatures during flight.
Shaking the pink fringe from his eyes, Soul glanced towards the falling sun to notice the depths of shadows forming. He wouldn't have to wait too long now before it became dark enough to hunt his goal. For just beyond this vast meadow and along the curve of a river, there resided a small Indian tribe. He had seen their bonfires and heard their loud cries of song and dance from the distant skies, and it was a horrible action to catch this kalona's eye. Now, he had every intent to storm upon their parade, shredding down teepees and stomping apart their valued treasures with glee.
But only when the sun should set.