Somewhere in the forest, a rustling of leaves disturbed the silence. Underneath the moonlight, a dark silhoutte scampered from tree to tree. Moving swiftly, the figure closed in on its prey, alternately hiding and moving forward.
And finally, the end of the chase: a pathetic whimper, a deadly snap of the neck. No more would the elven spy run.
This is a suman post, in case you didn't know it.