At the first crack of a
twig, she scurried into the hollow of the rotting log.
Peered out, trembling yet curious.
Who were they, these strange, two-legged beasts? So tall, so fearsome--and so undaunted by the cold and the wind and the approaching dark.
No, for there were also smaller creatures, scarcely bigger than she, and they smelled of ripe apples and...walnuts.
She licked her lips.
With them strode another--and this one, rightfully, upon four feet.
And then two more beasts there were, one short, one tall, but both reeking of death. Dead fur. And old blood.
She recoiled, quivering.
But her still-twitching nose caught a different scent. Clean and gentle as spring leaves. Delicate as rain. Warily, she crept out of hiding. Her ears flicked twice.
This one turned and met her stare with bright, knowing eyes.
And then was gone.
They all had gone. Passed beyond the trees. Beyond her seeing.
She stepped on to the trampled path. The bitter wind ruffled her fur. And it bore another scent. The smell of damp and moldering earth. Quickly she turned--
But not quickly enough. She only glimpsed pale, bulging eyes as sharp teeth sank into her throat.
[oh, well...17 mins 47 secs by the clock]