The Magical Herd

Night approached and the air grew chill. As you found a comfortable place to rest for the evening, a glowing shape stepped forth from the twilight. Fangs bared, she let out a cry so horrible you thought your mind would never let you hear again.

Fuego was angry. Angry at always having to leave her favorite hunting ground every time the sun set. Wasn't she a creature of the night too? She found this place first. But the other had no respect for that.

The other was a thief. A mere blood-sucker, and it infuriated Fuego that she could rule the rainforest whenever the sun went away. With a snort, Fuego clung to the fact that the other disliked the sun, and was rarely about even in the shelter of the forest. The day belonged to Fuego, though she herself clung to the shadows, burning them red in her passage.

And so, in her fury, she didn't notice the tasty morsel curled up nearby, trying not to breath and attract then attention of the dark leagus.