The life in him sparked, lit, finally roared into a full blaze. He creeped out of his resting place. Last night had been a good night, one for many similar fires to be put out.

He crept to the edge of the wood, his home. The dark of the early morning didn’t prevent his eyes from seeing every inch of the landscape, its hills and valleys, the droplets of dew still dwelling on the leaves of the grass, the creatures trying to move slowly and quietly to avoid him. They knew nothing about him, his kind or his ability.

And they were gullible. This was his biggest advantage, not that his wings or his claws or his powerful breath weren’t enough. But they just helped him to play with his prey. His mind was what caught the others.

But there was a problem. He could sense it immediately. There was another like him, another who could think as he could. Another of his kind.

And he was not welcome.

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