Wind howled through the open cargo bay, causing the large alien's braids to flop arround as the large metal doors gradually closed after pushing all of the unconcious prey out into the open skys of their hunting planet. The large ship that had transported the lost and confused humans to this world was equipped with the same cloaking technology that their prey would become very familiar with in the days to come. For now though, they still had to ready their equipment and prepare for the hunt.<br/><br/>The ship moved unseen above the trees, landing several hundred yards away from the drop zone where the silly little humans were probably just now waking up and discovering they weren't in Kansas anymore.....or where ever the hell they were collected from. The ship had set down a few kilometers away from where the hunters had made camp in past seasons. The area was still full of signs of their occupancy. Skulls and other trophies proudly displayed on the ends of spikes, odd looking wind chimes made of human bone...some not human, as well the skins of some large unknown mammals stretched over wooden frames decorated the area between their temporary shelters.<br/><br/>The clan of hunters, assembled from the castoffs and exiles of other predator clans growled and clicked excitedly, practically chomping at the bit to get started. For a few this was their first hunt in decades, since their dishonorable discharge from their previous clan. Their new leader was certainly a sight to behold. He was a good two heads taller than normal Yautja (what the predators call their own species) and his skin was an abnormally dark hue. He was once well respected amungst their people...some even said he was the black hunter (god of death) incarnate. But that was before his radical new theory on how things should be done.<br/><br/>He saw no true point to their system of so called honor and its seemingly endless and convoluted rules. In a fight for survival, honor is meaningless. All that matters is who lives, and who dies. To pretend otherwise was just foolish. He tried to make the rest of his clan see things his way. And they TRIED to exile him for it. The were unsuccessful. He killed them all and took their ship. Since then he's been tracking down every exiled 'bad blood' he could find and extend an inventation to join him. Only the strongest of those manage to survive the little initiation cerimony.<br/><br/>His clan is small, but it is the most feared in all of Yautja space. Even his own people are not safe from them. The so called elite hunters sent in to kill him are captured and stripped of their weapons, armor and tech, and then sent running helplessly through the woods as they hunt them down like a common pig.<br/><br/>The leader turned to look at their most recent catch. Strung up naked, his hands and feet tied to the large metal pole he hung from. Once these humans were dealt with it would be his turn. What better way to close a successful hunting season? Speaking of...there seemed to be remarkable lack of gunfire from the drop zone. Usually the scared and confused humans open fire on eachother before realizing they are all in the same situation.<br/><br/>He turned to one of the smaller clan members and ordered him to do some recon in their odd, guttoral language. The smaller hunter nodded respectfully before activating his optical camo, seeming to vanish from sight before moving out of the clearing and into the dense jungle to find and observe the humans as the rest of the clan continued their preparations, unloading large metallic cages from the ship. The cage's occupants growled and snarled as they bit and scratched at their enclosure, clearly as eager for human blood as the hunters themselves.