Cedar Sweep he eats the whole chicken wing, bone and everything

It is nightfall when the sylph makes her leave of Redhawks’ fold, her children tucked deep and undisturbed in their new den. As Caiaphas strode under a bright constellation of distant stars the world seemed quiet, encloaked in a somber autumnal silence. A chill had crept into the air and settled there thick as mist on the range of a mountain, unsettling the summer world with its quick advances.

She was long past the borders ere she heard any other noise save her footsteps, and as she paused under the helm of an archway of cedar she heard the soft crinkle of pine straw underfoot. She froze and listened, scrying from the darkness any information she could — meanwhile the harsh flash of her reflective gaze was focused inward towards a bundle of thick shrubs in which she had first heard the noise.