Branches of other nearby trees creaked as the wind picked up and settled again in the rhythm it had employed for the night. The night was silent apart from the occasional owl hoot far off in the distance. Otherwise, all was seemingly peaceful. Too peaceful. She listened carefully. The wind rustled again. She could not be bothered by that. Her senses were tuned to one thing, and one thing only. For a minute, she zoned in on it, but then it was gone. The wind rustled again. Smart move staying upwind she thought. She flexed her knuckles, protracting and retracting her claws in the process, a subconscious habit she usually engaged in when she was in deep concentration. She took a deep breath again, assessing the various smells. Pine. Fig leaves. Rotten fruit.
