Rulav emerged from the canopy of trees as the sun began to descend behind their tops. Soon he would be intoxicated by the fullness that the night brought to those of his kind, even if, now, the day didn’t bother him that much. He still preferred, by far, darkness and its share of unsuspected smells and pleasures. But for now, he was focused on one goal: to quench his thirst for blood. He walked down the small path that meandered to the top of the mountain, observed the rocks, numerous in this area, and sniffed the air with a frown of discontent. Something was bothering him. He detected several presences, scattered around him, and the ambient silence testified to their inactivity. The notion of a trap slowly crept into his mind, clouded with an overwhelming desire to kill anyone who appeare
