I am the airborne stalker, thought Medes. The wide-eyed predator, the silent shadow of doom, the noiseless hunter, the claws of night.
The owl plucked some berries from a bush on the ground. And I'm collecting berries for a life-challenged weird-speaker. Doesn't he know that my screech alone freezes the tiny hearts of my prey, paralyzing them on the—
Medes was pushed to the ground. He could feel the weight of two paws on him, pinning him against the forest's dirt. He turned his head, and saw the ravenous glow in the eyes of a fox.