Where Will The Devil Go?

The soft crunch as you stalk your chosen prey in your Tasmanian, dry forest home.

Your scream is louder than the rush of a wild waterfall, hitting the rocks, stashed below.

The crinkle of your paws, walking lightly on fallen autumn leaves. The branches creaking with years, decades, centuries, of withstanding the weathering wind. Your keen ears hearing the familiar crackling of your prey in the undergrowth.

Why are they dying? Well, the answer's just so.

A few more fox attacks, diseases, people, and they might just go...