A chill moon watched over the ancient wood, eldritch moss wrapping silver-limned bark. Few creatures stirred at this hour, and those that did were nearly all of the same sort- silent, hungry creatures hunting for prey.
A different animal roamed the forest this evening, a very different type, yet still of the sort just mentioned. This one walked upright, like a man; but it smelled only of filthy rags and slowly rotting flesh. Its eyes glowed with an unearthly pale green hue that seemed to smoke and flare. The robes it bore, though stained, caked, and torn, looked as though once fine and noble. When it walked, there was no sound, nor leaf stirred; though its form was quite solid, the ancient robes quite real.
For several hours, as time mattered little to the long-lived creature, it found a suitable prey. An unlikely find, a plump goat-like animal separate from its herd, roaming a silent meadow under generous chrome light from a bulbous Luna. It turned its horned head in the direction of the hunter, but its rectangular pupils missed the shadowy form. The hunter stood there for a moment in the shadows.
It lurked there, watching, waiting for the perfect moment. The hunter wasn’t frightened of anything, but it still wanted to avoid attention. Otherwise it would have been openly feeding in the nearest town.
When it struck, the animal was helpless; within seconds it lay on the ground senseless. Then the hunter crouched down, tore a leg off of the carcass with a ragged, wet whisper, and began to feed. It continued long into the night, tearing off pieces methodically, consuming the entire animal, bones and organs and all. When it had finished, only a damp smear of bloody earth remained, adorned with tufts of silvery fur.
The hunter moved off into the woods, faster now, to find its next nest.
