Her wings parting the silky blackness.
Silent Death.
Gliding over sleeping fields,
She gazes at the ground below,
Searching for the slightest movement.
Her ears alert, waiting.
Nothing ventures out this night.
As the garish sun peeks over the horizon,
Flooding the sky with orange and pink,
She wings back to her hollow nest
Hunger gnawing at her belly like a beast.
Tonight the Huntress will hunt again.
