A bright spackling of white in the sunlight that filtered through the canopy. It's gone, of course, in the next breath; hidden safely in the shade of the thickening undergrowth.

Silent and methodical, a long colorless ribbon glides stealthily through the Mossflower woods. Pink forked tongue tasting, sensitive jawbone feeling, listening.

There were few more terrible sights in the world then a serpent; unblinknig, coldblooded beasts that they were. If one was lucky; it would be a small, harmless grass snake hunting crickets. But not this one.

As long as a badger was tall, with muscles that moved like oiled cables beneath steel scales. Stealth and grace that bespoke speed and death to anybeast unlucky enough to be considered prey.

But this one wasnt hunting; though nobeast could tell by looking at it. She hadnt encountered any occupants...not yet. Not even by following the long, broad river beside her. Pike and minnows glistened below the surface enticingly, and with every distant ribbit of a frog; the snake's journey-hunger grew.

With a pool of warm sunlight so invitingly over a broad, rough rock, Whitescale noses delicately towards it, looking, watching, thinking. The splashings of a yellowtail decide her, and the snake draws slowly out of the brush to seek her lunch.

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