It had not been a restful night, all things considered.
First there had been that hideous roar which had shaken the whole jungle into frightened silence, the cries of the nocturnal creatures obliterated by what Zildiz had first mistaken for a violent monsoon wind. For the second time in this miserable day she had looked up and beheld a creature which had no place in the natural world. A winged manta moving so swiftly that it had already passed out of sight before she could even begin to process what she had just seen.
The last thing she needed right now was another challenge to her already tenuous understanding of the world as it was. The grey behemoth from earlier had already left her mind groping for some rational explanation, one that continued to elude her despite Zildiz’s best attempts to form useful analogies.
Sleep soon proved impossible. Her agile mind was too busy wrestling with questions. Was the grey behemoth an act of nature or the result of the Vitalus’ direct intervention, a sort of living earthquake or forest fire that he could summon at will? Had the Vitalus created it solely to eradicate an entire biome? If so, then why? The Amits had always been a central part of the cycles of change, altering the atmosphere through their mound respiratory systems and building the wind walls to help regulate the climate. Why had they drawn the All-In-One’s displeasure? Alternatively, if It had not created the grey behemoth, then what had?
Zildiz left her lair and went for a walk to clear her head. It was well and truly night now, black as the pit and with only the stars to guide her steps. Zildiz’s compound eyes were useless in these conditions. Thankfully her other pair were designed specifically for this, their yellow irises widening to double their usual diameter. Gallivants sometimes hunted at night, though it was a bit trickier than in the day. Her simple eyes could only see within a narrow frontal cone and left her blind in the directions in which she was not directly facing.
Her olfactory organs caught the scent of some speckled tree frogs and she hovered up into the lower boughs of the trees, impaling them on her mantid blades and skinning them carefully to avoid the poisonous coatings which they secreted. Her digestive system could weed out all but the deadliest of toxins, but tonight she wanted to relax and conserve her strength.
That is, until she picked up the trail of another animal close by. She found its tracks in the soil, catching the bright sheen where its feet had compacted the mud. Judging by the depth and spacing of the prints, Zildiz concluded that it was heavy and slow-moving. Also, it had no toes—its foot was made up of a single large hoof that left zigzagging patterns of grooves.
Confusing. Then again, she wasn’t all that familiar with the species of this biome. Well, whatever it was she looked forward to finding out what it tasted like. Zildiz was ravenous. Come to think of it, she had heard what sounded like a large animal crashing through the forest shortly after the flying monsters had appeared, no doubt fleeing from them in fear. Sharpening her blades against each other, Zildiz eagerly set off in pursuit.
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Such a meal would sustain her for days. Enough to get her back home again without having to constantly stop and hunt for victuals. This animal did not move quickly even when it was clearly in a hurry. It was the sort of prey-form she could run down even in her injured state. A broken branch and a stone overturned from its resting place guided her in for the kill.
She was close now, barely thirteen wingspans away if she had to guess from the richness of its scent. Too close to risk using her wings—the noise of their fluttering would give her away. Still, it would be better to attack it from above, if only to save her the trouble of a long chase through unfamiliar territory. She sheathed her blades in their housings of flesh and stole up a nearby trunk, her light body making barely a rustle as she transferred her weight between the branches. The going was tortuously slow. She didn’t know how the Leapers could put up with this painstaking approach to killing. It just seemed so very inefficient compared to her way of doing things.
Zildiz took a moment to let her eyes adjust to the deepening night. It did not take long to spot the prey-form. An albino! Its exoskeleton was as white as the snow she’d glimpsed on the peaks of far-off mountains beyond the salt plains. Zildiz wondered how it could have survived long enough to grow so large. The complete lack of camouflage, the plodding pace and the lack of any noticeable armaments made it perfect Leaper food. Perhaps it had some sort of hidden defense mechanism? Like spewing noxious musk out of a gland next to its anus, or having poisonous skin like the frogs (perhaps that would explain its bright and noticeable colors)? What if it was tracking her movements even now, just waiting for her to play right into its hands? Oh, but that would be a clever survival strategy. Zildiz hesitated, beginning to suspect a trap.
But the longer she observed the prey-form, the quicker she came to the conclusion that it was not some cunning adversary, but rather a slow-witted member of its species.
It had tried to hide by wedging itself between the roots of a fatwax tree, covering itself with a single broad palm leaf in a pathetic attempt at camouflage. Something in its total defenselessness and the way it was tucked up into a ball with its arms and legs drawn in reminded Zildiz of her own children. She even felt a morsel of guilt at having to kill it before she squashed the unexpected emotion within herself.
Guilt? For ensuring her survival and that of her brood? She was getting soft in her age. Zildiz made the final preparations, adjusting her footing for the pounce that would end it all. A blade stuck between head and thorax would do it, followed by a twisting wrench of her wrist to sever the nerve cord and render the prey-form totally paralyzed, but still alive as she fed upon it. Zildiz preferred them that way—all the flavors really came to the fore when the meat was still fresh and twitching in the mouth.
She was just about to make her move when an odd breeze made the follicles on her neck stand on end. Danger! Zildiz froze in place and scanned the jungle floor, careful not to move single muscle for fear of giving away her position. Four figures detached themselves from the shifting shadows, each standing nine feet tall on their long, hairy and backwards-jointed legs and making not a whisper as they converged onto her tree.
Leapers! Fighting against the mounting horror she felt, Zildiz steeled herself for the fight of her life.