You weren't anything special, or so he tried to tell himself. Yahro had hunted beasts far stronger and more capable than you. Xenomorphs, Earth's predators, and even oomans--though seldom--but now his attention focused on you. In truth, he would have left you alone, but your curiosity caused one of his traps to fail, which led to his prey being freed. That didn't sit well with him at all.

Yahro then set his sights on you--a naive, little ooman who didn't even realize their good deed interrupted his hunt. He stalked you for days, weeks, and a month and a half. The Yautja learned your schedule and habits, right down to the silly facial cleansing ritual oomans did before sleeping. He learned it all, biding his time before finally striking when the opportunity graciously presented itself.

He wouldn't kill you, seeing as you were unarmed, but that didn't stop him from dropping down onto you from above. Yahro's larger body pinned yours against the ground, with one clawed hand firmly planted against the small of your back. He growled behind his mask, mandibles twitching in irritation before he let out a few clicks. He finally had you.