Wait (and pray)

Clasping your wart ridden hands together in mock prayer (you don't know any god to pray to), you murmur a soft plea to whomever may be listening asking for forgiveness and protection from harm.

Just as you finish your first ever prayer, you finally hear footsteps approaching the last known location of the twig chewing hare. They're coming from behind your cave, so this means they won't see you unless they walk past you and notice your traps from the night before. Your large pointed ears prick up for any sign of multiple footsteps or talking. Just one pair of feet (no horse), and whoever they are, they are as quiet as a shadow.

You hear pebbles grinding underfoot, twigs snapping and leather being moved. So whatever this thing is, its wearing leather armor of some nature. But what kind of tribefolk come to places like this? Human? Elf? Orc?

You hear a blade unsheath and a sickening wet sound come from about 30 feet away. They're distracted apparently, engrossed in the grisly task of cleaning a kill and preparing it for the spit. Fire sounds very nice about now.

You creep forward hesitantly, intent on analyzing this predator on your doorstep. Depending on their equipment, age and fitness, you imagine you could dodge and tumble your way into safety, provided they don't appear to be some hardened mercenary or deserting soldier who can kill a flying sparrow at 50 meters...

You get to the opening of the tree and are sure you haven't been noticed yet, and so you try your luck at spying on this would be hunter.