By Bill Wilson
A scary figure owning an evil eye and bent neck, enters unseen without a sound. The lethal predator creeps in under cover of early morning mist. Furtive, a lurking danger for all who carelessly wander close. Edge dweller, solitary hunter, hidden in plain sight. Pointed dagger honed to strike and kill with a single lunge. Stoic. Focused. Patient. A sudden breeze tickles his gray beard and the little spit of black atop his head. Yellow eyes blink a split-second warning of certain death. With his victim, he rises in deliberate slow-motion flight, and disappears into the pewter sky.