Hunter and Hunted

He observed with contempt. These trespassers had blocked the trails, had cut the trees, and even began poaching the wildlife. These men. These unclean, uncaring, men. He observed their camp, a large collection of tents and fires surrounded by a large fence made from those that stood so proudly not so long ago. They moved about their business, each one carrying their standard in some form or another. Whether it be stitched on their bandanas, their shirts, or even on makeshift tabards. He observed their unshaven faces, their foul teeth, and their unkempt hair. These men were foreign, and they did not play by the rules.

He placed a rough hand upon the bark of the large tree next to him. He could feel it's pain, feel it mourning for it's brothers. He could feel the rage of the earth beneath his feet. He knew what his mission was, but how to do it? He must remove them for certain, for they blocked the trails. Not only did they fortify their camp upon the main trail, standing mockingly in the way, but they attacked and robbed anyone who dared cross any of the other paths.

He knew his mission. For now, he would wait. He would observe, as much as it offended him. To defeat your enemy, you must know your enemy, and he knew this one more than he had ever wanted. He would wait, for at night they slept. He would wait, for they were lazy yet for but a few.

He would wait.

~~~

The moon was new that night, making the shadows easier to dance in. As the fires died, and the snores were born, he stalked. He was searching, for what? He knew. It was close. He had seen their kind before, but not close, not like this. They, like any creature, both a hive, or a single being, were destroyed in the same fashion. The mind. Destroy the mind, and the body falters. So he searched. He sought the mind of his enemy.

Just like any animal, any beast, these men kept their mind in the grandest of abodes. While the men slept in tents or on the earth, the mind rested in the comfort of a cabin. The cabin was guarded, by the fiercest of the bunch. These were beastmen, different than the rest. Their eyes did not need light, their noses sensitive. He knew this, and so he used it to his advantage. With the right ingredients, nature could provide the strongest of sedatives, as well as the most subtle. It was simple, a thin pouch. And when it was thrown the fumes of it's contents erupted into the air, causing the sentries to slip unconscious before they could even notice the dark figure approaching them.

With the sentries slumped over, deep in dreams. He took their keys and unlocked the door. He would have preferred a window, yet strangely enough this cabin only had one entry visible entry. As he slipped into the door, he readied himself. The room was dark, almost pitch black which caused him to feel his way through the short hall. He heard breathing, soft, regular... asleep. He approached the sleeper, closer, closer. His muscles taught, his senses on edge. He was close, his mission would be complete and order would be restored to his home. He knew. He was ready.

And suddenly, he was blinded. The contrast from pitch black to the radiant glow that now permeated the room sent his mind reeling. He turned away from the source of the light and saw the grinning face of his target, the mind of the parasites that plagued his home. He was tall, a beastman like his guards. His teeth where white and sharpened. He wore little, his body a large bulk of muscle and sinew.

And then, darkness.