Prowling closer to the forest floor. Moist from the mixture of rain and human track. I can smell the quivering flesh, that murky pollute called sweat. And the thick dribble of blood. My enemy is hear, his body unfit to nurture me. So, leaning done to the rocky undergrowth I let forth and small flame and launch in the face of the two legger. Its dead in less than a minute. And my home is safe, still.