He looked to his right, and then his left.  They were everywhere.

Large canines, three feet tall each, prowling around the night, their ears alert, eyes peeled.  They were still looking.  Good, that’s good.  They hadn’t found him.

Granted, the little man – no bigger than maybe four, five inches – had managed to tick them off pretty good by poking around in their food pile, and thus perhaps the pounding in his chest and overwhelming feelings of anxiety were well-deserved, but he wasn’t really thinking about what was ‘just’ and ‘virtuous’ right now.  Only his fight-or-flight instincts stalling maddeningly and the sound of paws stepping quietly on the dry earth registered.  Everything else was like the rain; it came in little drops and then slid away, never really staying long enough for him to ponder over everything individually.  It was all just a steady noise in the background, filling in the tense silence between the quiet crackling of the grass and dirt beneath their massive feet.

He could now see them clearly, approaching his area, coming dangerously close.  He took a few hesitant steps from his hiding spot, tensing his muscles.  He had to run.