The dawn of the day turns into dusk as the creatures of the night awakens out of their slumber as the light of the sun settles into rest. As the final remnants of light fades away I am awakened out of my daily slumber with the greatest famishment of an undying fathom. The wind suddenly shifts to the southeast bringing a great and blindsiding scent that caught appetite, and brought me to a sensational hunger. Like the sigh of a ghost I emerge from my obscure milieu well hidden in the shadows, oblivious to the creature that will be my unwilling meal. Through the moon-draped land like a secret my threat was silent, under the hunters moon death was busy, chok’d by hunger in my tangled trap meant fresh death. As I creep through that shadows of the hunters moon my prey catches a glimpse of the movements that I make, and the trill of the hunt begins. As it runs the chase continues through the moon draped land the sweet smell of fear from my prey beckons to me; death with its cruel beauty will be less kind than the gray twilight. With a triumphant slice through the shadows I am victorious, as a vague and ululant cry strains from the throat of my glorious meal, Striking with phenomenal strength I clamped my unwary prey, players of the night music blended with the hums and drips that were punctuated by the shocked squeals of the hunted. A breeze stirred the air then it was gone like the sigh of a ghost, and hope was less dear than the dew of the morn…