At sunset, the murmurs began. Against the fading day, the voices of the forest made themselves heard.
The predators made murmur of their intent, their hunger driving them to act quickly, the potential prey murmuring warnings to be ever vigilant.
Over the top of them, all the night insects struck up their chorus, their orchestra of scratching’s and rubbings to both attract and detract.
With the day closing in the temperature dropped, leaving every creature to breath in the air already cooling, the steam of their breathe visible for all to see.
The predator put his nose to the air seeking out a meal that would be pleasant and easily acquired. At the same time, the prey sought the scent of the predator and once again murmured to each other to be watchful.
In the village, the inhabitants readied themselves for sleep, tucked their children into beds and looked forward to a well-earned rest.
They secured their doors and hoped their night would be uneventful. But one could never be sure and murmured that reality to each other.