The forest was lovely, dark and deep. Within the sweltering jungle, there was no doubt a monotony of mystery and intrigue to be had.For Belial, it was simply breakfast time.
There was hardly more than a skitter at first along the underbrush, no more then a ripple through the fan-like leaves. But then, surely, a thump and a squeal as a draconic shape detached itself from the shadow of the trees and lurched toward an unsuspecting passerby.
The rat was seized between the jaws of a beast much greater than itself, shrilling and twisting for its life. Fortunately, those teeth did not clamp down upon its scraggly form; unfortunately, the rodent was being tossed. Right into the trunk of a nearby tree. But creatures like that make a rebound quick - soon enough a bright pair of eyes are watching the plump little rascal shake itself off and make a dash for the underbrush.
Like lightning, the dreichda is after it. They 'play' for some time - the rat snaps off into the wild and the hunter makes chase. He lets it run until it seeks a hovel, at which point he bats or tosses it away to a new path. It's a cheap form of entertainment, but hey, aren't life's simple pleasures supposed to be the best?
