A heat wave is uncomfortable for everyone, except the night things.
The forest is dead quiet. Sweltering sun has forced even the insects to seek shelter. The only sound is the occasional soft crack when something crumbles in the heat and the crushing of moss underfoot. The brittle dry vegetation offers little nourishment. Birds have flown away, or maybe perished in their nests. Eerie silence fills the ears, when you stop walking.
But the night things thrive. They are swifter, stronger, more silent. Deadlier. The large ones roam farther. The small ones gather In numbers. They wait. We wait.
The rain must come soon, bringing cool breezes. The rain must come.
Time for a new prompt. Suggestions?