Carnivorous

The village was hot in the humid air, the bamboo slats of the huts stagnant and wet. Sticky and starving in the pit of her stomach, Mira stalked the edges of the Human Country, just hidden in the cover of the dense jungle. She could almost feel the acid leeching her thoughts, starving her of the will for civility. Her teeth ached and her vacant eyes scanned with the deadness and longing of age from a pallid face delicately preserved. 

Her gaze darted -- movement. She stood stalk still as a child skipped noisily between the trees, breaking branches and disturbing leaves with every trot. Mira remained frozen, but expanded her pointed mouth sumptuously, a sweet scent bubbling forth. The child turned, sniffing softly, humming as she walked ever closer. Then the foreign sounds ceased, and white noises of the jungle were all that remained.