Obed stood on a thick branch overlooking the path, his body tense and cold.
The night was quiet. Very, very quiet.
As quiet as a graveyard.
The slight buzz of enormous insects, quiet as killers, and just as deadly... Creatures evolved to silently latch onto and devour their prey.
Obed felt his breathing to a minimum to escape their detection.
He had learned from killers mired in the ways of blood and death. Of course, his teachers had been horrible people and had all died within the jaws of Abominations or under the blades of foes and friends.
Because of that, he'd learned not to trust silence in places like this.
Silence always meant something was stalking, watching, and deciding whether to stick a fang or a blade into your back.
Silence was the moment before violence, after all.
