Malach was born with his father's hunting instinct, and he too knew what lay before them.

He drew himself up, ready to charge on the unsuspecting meal.

Okar dealt him a swift blow, and Malach slunk to the ground.

 "You fool!" Okar hissed, as Malach rose cautiously, "we don’t simply barge headlong into them. They are unaware of our presence. A direct attack will make them scatter and we will lose them. We must surround them and ambush them all.”

 “But there are four of us; we can take them all now.” Magan snivelled.