I’m hungry.
The men have been scouring the woods for five days. I’ve stayed hidden, climbing up into the trees when needed. They stink and their clothes and boots are loud when they move.
I watch them, trying not to breath, they are ruining my forest. They have scared all the other animals away while they look for that man wedged in the rocks.
I think about leading them to him, I think about eating them, but both ideas make my stomach turn.
I want them to leave so I don’t have to flee to the north where it is so cold and there isn’t as much food. I don’t want to have to sleep for years again when the weather is bad.
I will wait.