A pair of leaf green eyes wandered over the small clearing. Somewhere here must be the source of the whining, he thought. It was dusk, and the elf was out in the woods, hunting for game. Originally he was looking for a deer, but then he heard this whining and vague crying of an injured animal, promising easy prey. And he was hungry. He had followed the noise to the little clearing with the huge oak stump in the middle, and now he was standing there, half hidden by two small trees with an arrow on his string.
But the clearing was empty.
It was autumn, and he saw a track in the fallen leaves that vanished in the middle of the clearing, just next to the stump. There was a hole in the ground where the track stopped. The animal must have fallen into this hole, maybe broke a leg. He smirked, this was easier than expected. Soundlessly he started moving towards the hole. In spring a mother fox with her kits lived in a burrow next to this stump, from time to time he used to come by to watch the