‘ ᴇᴇʀʀʜ-нᴇʀʀ, ʀʀʀʀᴀᴀᴀᴀAAAAAAAAAAH! ‘ Over desperate gasps for breath he could hear his pursuer’s enraged cries, probably frustrated that its meal was escaping. Silver paws, muddied with soil and moss, raced through forest brush in the heat of chase, their owner’s hot breath misting in the cold night’s air. The dim moonlight shone between and betwixt the tall pines, lighting up the eerie mist that lay low across the forest. It made his pelt glow, even as it was dirtied by the elements and the twigs and snagged clumps of already wet fur.
All the while, only a few paces behind, a beast no bigger than the thick-horned rhinoceros plowed after him. Their tongue had tasted guardian blood and only craved more. Their illuminated blue eyes follow the dancing of shimmer barely escaping their grasp.
Silver pulls himself forward, violently tugging himself free of any bushes that would have snagged him for all about three seconds. Fur tore from his pelt, leaving bruises and bare patches covered in sap and thorns, but the shapeshifter valued his life more than his pelt. One final hurdle over the low brush leads him onto a steep slope that he does not see coming. The child stumbles, paws flailing in all sorts of directions before would have found his footing and caught himself at the base of the hill, while kicking up a cloud of dust.
He takes a moment to judge his distance from his pursuer. But the beast isn’t far behind, and it appears at the hillside in all about two seconds. Frightened, panicked, and gasping for breath, the young guardian continues his trek into the brambles surrounding an old wooden building. The structure had grown worn in the elements for several decades, and its wear showed when the wood flooring splits under the weight of his paw alone. With a surprised yelp, he lifts his paw back out and proceeds to make his way across.
A claw bursts out from the floor ahead of him. Silver screams, and a scrap piece of wood strikes the claws under influence of his telekinesis. His pursuer had a serpentine spine and seemed able to squeeze itself in narrow places; which it probably displayed upon slipping into the crawlspace beneath the old house. The claws withdraw, and smash again through the floor, following the shapeshifter’s bounding movements. As he draws close to the other door on the opposite side of the house, the floor beneath him creaks, twists, and snaps.
A set of jaws, followed by the spine of the animal emerges through the floor, teeth just barely missing its prey’s tail. Unfortunately, the old cabin cannot take much more damage in its worn state, and it begins to crumble. The beast forces the rest of its body through the floor just as the roof begins to fall apart, and Silver is able to escape back into the open world.
There is a familiar glow ahead. It shone as brilliantly as the moon, yet twice as blue. It was a portal; one of many scattered across his homeland. And as far as he knew, it was his ticket out of here. Bravely, or perhaps stupidly, he pauses and looks back, and witnesses the half wreckage of the old cabin. Whatever remained was being held up by the beast, who snarled and glared at him, its blue eyes brimming with savagery. Though coated with dust and worn down with cumbersome lumber, it was still clearly conscious. The moment that they did make eye contact did it try to lunge toward him from the wreckage. The young guardian bolts into the portal--and the house collapses, crushing the demon beneath it...
But as the dust settles, a hand still claws out from under
the wreckage, only minutes after its prey had escaped.
He keeps gasping, and his paws feel like they’ve been burned. And yet, Silver keeps running, not daring to stop. The air here feels different. It’s calm, quiet, it’s warm. Frost-dusted pines are now replaced with leafy bamboo thickets. The moon still hangs high, but the atmosphere is now relaxed, in contrast to the tense heaviness that hung over the forest during his chase. The pup looks back again, only to stumble and trip and somersault.
In the process, forepaws turn to sleeved hands. Fur turns to clothed skin. He lands on his side with a solid gasp, glasses slipping off his nose and silver hair now dishevelled. All the sudden his vision starts to swim, and his ears ring, even as his consciousness is maintained. As the world settles back into view, and the ringing fades, he finally realizes that he’s stopped.
Another gasp. Silver glimpses over his shoulder. Then the other. Then he faces forward, hands clutching over his palpitating heart. He listens closely, but all he could hear was that heart about to burst in his chest and his own hoarse breath. His tense senses relax.
Carefully and quietly, he rises to his feet. The shifter’s posture is skittish and unbalanced, visibly shaken after that close encounter with the claws of death. With no intention of revisiting them, he makes his way deeper into the thicket--not knowing where in the world he was.
