An elder sat in the pavilion, enjoying nature and writing.

“Oh ye foolish winged creature, flee, for your doom is at hand! You wait and wait to emerge, but your wings have brought you nought but pride! You remain on the ground, though a mere flutter of your wings would free you from the mantis’s assured grasp!”

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As the man finished writing, he put his quill down, and closed his notebook.

“The other elders are going to love this, HAH!”

As soon as he laughed though, the grass behind the mantis began to rustle.

“…No way…”