The Nimble Hunter
The hunt began as it always did. A panel of the transparent wall slid away, and Velo's contained world was invaded with Drosophila hydei. They swarmed over the moss and mushrooms, paying no heed to Velo as he watched from inside his treetop dwelling. His eight eyes took in each of those hapless fruit flies, which would soon be drained of life as he sank his fangs into them, one by one.
An exceptionally plump specimen scrambled directly across the slice of wood on which Velo's little house sat, while Velo patiently tracked it. His vision was excellent, and with his speed and agility, he had no need to rush. There was too much pleasure in the pouncing to be hasty about it. The juicy Drosophilae were enclosed with him, so would pick them off at his leisure.
Now that he had chosen his first target, Velo tensed his back legs and extended his long front legs toward his mindlessly hurrying prey. In a mighty leap too quick to be seen, he vanished from the entrance to his hide and reappeared on an opposite branch, brandishing his brilliant green chelicerae as his fangs pierced the hull of the first unfortunate fly. Even as it died, gripped against his fangs with his pedipalps, Velo's most prominent pair of eyes connected with those of another fly, signaling the inevitability of its identical fate. It had the chemical ability to perceive the threat and scurried away, but Velo was unconcerned. There was nowhere for it to go.
Velo dispatched the first fly quickly, which was the only mercy any of the Drosophilae would ever receive. He then danced in a circle, trying to choose which of them he would pursue next. Now that he had eaten one, the neurons in the other flies' simple brains were releasing tachykinin; a chemical megaphone announcing that danger was imminent. This was Velo's favorite part. The more the Drosophilae panicked, the more he got to leap and lunge, impaling them with his hidden fangs before they even knew they'd been caught.
He preferred to take his time with his meals, but he did enjoy the hunting, and was not at all above playing with his food. He knew the Drosophilae could sometimes live for several days before succumbing to starvation, so he took his time, enjoying long intervals between meals, during which he simply watched. Velo made eye contact when he could, enjoying the fresh burst of activity when their tiny nervous systems flooded again with tachykinin, though they hardly understood why.
That was when Velo would pounce again, until the very last of the Drosophilae was an empty husk the floor of his micro forest.