The squish of oversaturated ground is impossible to silence as I try to lead us around the main area of what must be the stagnant-smelling water I had scented earlier. I also heard Cassandra's warning, so as we moved, I carefully reached and drew my bow to nock an arrow for the ready. I hop and jump from large stable pieces of land to the next where I can, trying to keep us out of the marshy ground, which could be treacherous. Finally, we come into the space where the spark is burning out, but I don't see anything moving. I lower my voice, once again murmuring to Cassandra.

"I don't see anything, and I don't want to use my senses again in case something else happens. Do you see or smell anything?"

"Yes."

There's a long, pregnant pause between us, and I shift my stance to look back at Cassandra with questions written on my face. It's only then that I see her visage. Her fangs are completely distended, causing her lips to be ever so slightly parted and expose more than just the tips. Her ordinarily beautiful seafoam-colored eyes are dark saucers to allow in all of the visuals on a dark night–much like a hunting cat. Her fingers are tipped by ragged nails, longer than any human's, and look more like talons than anything else. Finally, she speaks again.

"You will follow me. Be ready."

That wasn't even half of a question; it was a whole order. She moves around me, taking the lead and rapidly moving from where we are currently towards what looks like small lumps of earth covered in moss about four feet high. While Cassandra charges ahead, I follow at a few wide paces behind. She might be some kind of undead serial killer, but I am not. I know my abilities and what I'm best at–and I need some space to be effective.

We draw up to where the mounds of earth are, and I see what Cassandra must have been talking about, having seen or smelled them. Body parts are strewn everywhere like a mad beast tore the tracker and his aid asunder. Bile rises in the back of my throat, threatening to make me retch, but I force it back down. The amount of blood and viscera everywhere is shocking. The mounds seem a bit out of place for the area, with no shrubbery or trees growing from them, only mossy small hills in the landscape.

I carefully move to a nearby tree that looks sturdy enough to hold my weight and use my free hand–since my other is still holding my bow and an arrow–to help me climb up and get some high ground. Once I get myself situated and my first arrow once again nocked, I spy Cassandra carefully moving toward where the brutal massacre happened around those mossy knolls.

The moment she gets in front of the earthen mounds, I see wisps of black shapes creeping from the swampy marshes behind those knolls. I sharply whistle and point with my free hand so that when Cassandra looks at me, she immediately sees that I'm pointing out the direction of what I can tell is incoming danger. The black shapes are mutable and appear almost as oil but in a mist-like gaseous form. Night terrors. I pat down my belt and immediately open a small pocket. I force myself to concentrate and not look back up while locating the necessary tools. I draw out several pieces of very thin cloth from one pocket and, from another, a simple metal gas station lighter that I had traded for with a Wilds' deer a while back. I quickly wrap the light linen around the front shaft of my arrow and then catch it aflame with the tiny flame from the cheap lighter.

It's not an actual fire arrow, and the weight will be off, but it's the only "emergency, break glass in case of night terrors" option I have available. I quickly–but carefully–draw back my arrow, and as soon as one of the wispy, gaseous creatures starts to manifest into a corporeal form to attack Cassandra, I aim slightly higher than average before loosing. The arrow wobbles a little in flight because of the change in its aerodynamics from the tied, flaming linen I added, but I carefully corrected for it. The creature–now fully formed into a many-legged spider-like creature with great, oversized, ragged mandibles–unleashes a piercing shriek of a war cry and would have probably gotten the drop on Cassandra even with my warning. Still, my arrow is already in the air. It slams into the beast, immediately igniting it as though it were made of gasoline fumes. The screech of a war cry turns into the howl of pain, and the beast runs in a small circle before it finally collapses, leaving a burning husk where, moments before, a terrifying creature was.

"Why is it always a spider?" I growl to myself.

Now, seeing what I saw, Cassandra launches herself at the nearest creature to form beside her. Like the first, it initially starts as an oily, black mist but rapidly manifests into the shape of a long, hundred-legged centipede-like beast. Its forcipules are oversized; from them, a black and green ichor drips to sizzle on the ground. I take my eyes away to fix another thin linen strip to the front of my next arrow and tie it off again. I hear the sounds of snarling and combat, but I force myself to concentrate on what I can control and use my cheap lighter to once again light the small linen strip on my newest arrow. While I move to nock the arrow, I look momentarily at the situation with Cassandra and company. She seems to be killing the centipede thing, having already left a ragged gouge along its back, and she doesn't seem injured, so I focus on the next creature that has already formed.

The creatures don't seem to realize I exist since I'm a little further away from the action, and Cassandra is the most obvious target. Luckily, night terrors are simple-minded creatures; they usually–though not always–hunt in packs but don't seem to have the same intelligence as wolves or other creatures that also hunt in packs. It's the first time I've seen insect-like night terrors, and I could absolutely do without this nightmare fuel.

The creature that's trying to sneak up behind Cassandra is my target. It has formed into the shape of a colossal alligator tick. Its two front pincer claws are massive, over half the size of its already boar-sized body. I rapidly take aim and then fire. The arrow sizzles through the air, but because I didn't aim quite high enough for its position in my rush to help Cassandra, my arrow strikes it in the lower half of its body, impaling one of its thick hind legs. I curse loudly, and while the huge beetle thrashes in pain and its body starts to catch flame from my arrow, it also is not dying. It roars in pain and anger, then propels itself towards the prey it can see: the still embattled Cassandra.

"Fuck!" I shout, giving away my position in the tree that I've chosen.

My hand rapidly grabs another arrow, but this time, I don't waste time tying another linen strip on its front. Instead, my hand smoothly moves from the quiver to bow to loosing an arrow that flies straight into the beast's side as it scurries forward to attack Cassandra. The force of the arrow knocks the beast aside, and it rolls onto its back, the fire of my first nearly-errant arrow licking up its underside towards the front of its body. The creature's insectoid legs flail as the beast tries to right itself, but it's to no avail. It dies there just as it is: upside down, burning and screeching in pain.

Cassandra claws the massive centipede into halves finally and kicks the pincer side with its acidic ichor far away from her. I'm already reaching for another arrow, expecting more nightmarish beasts to attack, but as I look left and right with a new arrow, I don't see anything. This concerns me greatly, as there were absolutely more than three things that I saw moving initially.

The fire flickers on the two beasts I killed, slowly engulfing and burning them to ash, illuminating the area around them.

"You alright, Cass?" I raise my voice.

"Yes. Are there more?"

"There was, but I don't see them now."

"Any signs of our 'calvary' coming?"

I hadn't even thought to look for that during the ordeal, so I slowly tried to turn in the tree I'd wedged myself on. I scrupulously scan the surrounding areas but don't see any movement or rumblings through the underbrush. I take care to tuck the last few pieces of linen back into the pocket on my belt from which I'd initially drawn them. I kiss the cheap metal lighter once and then slide it back into its pocket. A deer for on-demand fire? Best trade ever. I sling my bow over my shoulder once more and then carefully drop back down to the ground, intending to head over to Cassandra and the site of the tracker's death.

I move around the large earthen mounds and into the area where the pieces of a Blackham elf-kin and the poor, viper-nosed one are littered. The smell from the night terrors, both burning and dead, even overwhelms both the stagnant stench of the swamp and the smell of the dead body parts. The acrid scent gets into my sinuses and tickles the back of my throat. Before I realize it, I'm retching to the side, throwing up the remnants of our meal before we all broke camp to track.

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"Are you alright?"

"Ugh. Ughhh. This is awful. How are you okay?"

"I don't need to breathe."

"Oh." Then I hurl once more, "Ugh…"

"I assume you didn't see anyone coming."

"No, no, I didn't."

"So much for 'bringing the calvary.'"

I grab my stomach with a hand, trying to mentally will myself to get a hold of my retching. Finally, it subsides as my sense of smell deadens somewhat to the surroundings.

"What should we do, Cassandra?"

"Thank you, by the way."

"What?"

"Thank you for the assistance."

"I wasn't just going to leave you there on your own."

"I know."

I reach down to my belt and pick off my small water flask. I take a swill of water and use it to swish around in my mouth before spitting it out. It helps with the bile of my retching. I take one more swig of water and do the same thing before placing the flask back on my belt. I want to smile at her, but she's still in combat mode, vampire beast activated. So, instead, I asked her again.

"Now, what do we do?"

"Backtrack, head back to the camp, check in, and maybe murder Kline and the others for not coming."

"Skip the murder part, and I'm on board."

"If you insist."

I smile a little; at least she's got some humor about her. I gaze at the first kill I made, the strange arachnid-looking creature about the size of a volleyball. The flames have already burned themselves out on it, leaving nothing but a husk and shell of what was. I walk over to retrieve my arrow from its body and look it over. Ruined. I toss it to the ground with a sigh, even though I know I have plenty of them on me.

"Not your first time encountering a night terror, I see." Cassandra intones as she moves to follow me.

"No, but the ones I saw before looked like rodents of unusual size."

My attempt at humor falls flat, and Cassandra maintains silence behind me. Oh well, you can't always get a hit with pop culture references. Our feet squish and make sucking noises as I lead us away from the marshy landscape in the direction we initially came from. I'd rather take the same general direction back that we came in, so it will be easier to find the path we made through the briars and thick underbrush at the beginning of our trek.

I hop over a large pair of logs and immediately realize I've made a terrible mistake.

These are not logs.

Immediately, the "logs" shift and move, drawing off the ground on four legs supported by a thick, double-spiked tail. The pair of two-headed beasts are similar to the human lands' alligators–except for the razor-sharp spikes lining down their back that they raise on being disturbed and the two heads that are generally used to bite and split apart their prey.

"Basiliscu!" I shout in warning, which is enough for Cassandra to leap into action even if she doesn't know what they are.

Luckily for us, the murder logs were also not expecting to be straight-up leapt upon, so they're as startled initially as we are. Cassandra immediately throws herself onto the back of one of the beasts, very likely injuring herself on its spines. Since I don't have access to anything but my bow and a whittling knife, I draw out an arrow and use it to stab into the side of the two-headed beast whirling and splashing in the shallow muck water to try and bite me along its side. I know it won't kill the beast, but I had to do something.

The two-headed beast that Cassandra threw herself upon is flailing and thrashing, and its spiked tail comes within inches of slapping into my legs which would have surely crippled me. She uses her claws to drive down on the beast repeatedly, at the back of its pair of heads where they meet shoulders. I fling myself away from the beast that is now tracking me just in time, as the jaws snap only a short distance from me, where I was just a moment before.

After rolling on the ground, covered in moss and wet swamp slime, I shove my hands down into the squishy mud and moss mixture, trying to get purchase. Getting traction, I jump away from the beast's next attack, which I know is coming. Sure enough, I don't have but a moment's time to get my feet underneath me when I see the basiliscu's pair of teeth-lined heads rapidly flying in my direction, having used its powerful tail to launch itself forward. I roll to the side again, winding up back in the muck but out of the way of the beast's attack.

The arrow sticking out of the creature's side seems to have only enraged the beast rather than do any meaningful harm to it. Too worried about my own survival, I haven't the slightest clue how Cassandra is managing, though I do hear the sounds of furious screaming, snarling, and violence in my periphery. Or perhaps that's just around me?

Once again, the two-headed basiliscu turns to try and land a more direct attack on me. I'm faster to my feet this time and sprint for the nearby semi-dry land–which also has trees on it. I hear the forceful clap of two jaws missing their mark inches behind me, which means I have a few seconds to find somewhere to jump. The first tree I see that is thick enough to hold my weight is exactly what I go for. I launch myself into the air, dripping filth from my clothing, catching and then dragging myself up onto the trunk of the tree and off of the ground. Moments later, the tree itself shakes from the impact of the apoplectic beast running into it and missing its attack on me.

I take a few moments to catch my breath before unslinging my bow and rapidly firing arrows into the back of the beast underneath my tree as it tries to quickly leverage itself to leap upwards at me with its muscular tail. After three arrows on its upper back and one in the left-most head, it hisses and takes off–fleeing back towards the murky water where it was spending its night before my clumsy interruption. Once the danger to me has lessened I look to try and see Cassandra. She is already coming out from the muddy water, but she's bloody and clearly wounded. The beast she was on is torn into, and I realize she must have used her clawed, taloned hands just to rend and gash until the beast no longer moved.

I lower myself from the tree, putting my bow back over my shoulder, and jog over to her. As I get closer, I realize it's more than a few wounds that are on her body.

"Holy shit, let me help."

"I'll be fine; I just need a few minutes."

"Like hell you're fine!"

"I'm wounded from it's back, it didn't bite me."

"That doesn't mean I can't help you. Come on."

I reach for her bloody arm, and initially, she rips it away from me. It's only through altogether dropping her arm that I manage not to get scoured by one of her bloody and viscera-covered talons in the process.

"I said I'll be fine."

"And I don't fucking care what you said!"

Instead of an arm, I grab hold of the strap across her chest for the light armor she wears. I essentially dragged her across the ground and towards the side of the marshland I ran to. Once we're out of the moist and watery ground, I release my grip on her and reach down to where I keep my bandage wraps.

"Orion."

I continue opening the pouch, ignoring what I think is her protest, and when I pull out the bandages, she speaks more pointedly again.

"Orion."

"I said I'd help you, so let me get these wr–"

Preparing to wrap the first of the puncture wounds I saw on her initially, I trail off my voice. In front of my eyes, the wounds underneath the now-torn clothing she's wearing are re-knitting and closing. Along the side of her body, which was the one she landed on the spiked back of the basiliscu, Cassandra's skin is growing paler in small increments with each wound closed.

"Holy… Wow."

"I told you, I just needed a few minutes. You should use those bandages on yourself."

I look down to follow her gaze. Along my arms are scratches and a few tears of skin from where I was flinging myself along the ground, trying to avoid being torn into halves. I simply didn't notice the pain from them initially due to the adrenaline rushing through my body. They definitely need more than simple bandages in a couple of spots and will probably require campsite stitches or healing if one of the Blackham people can do that.

"Okay…"

I'm still a little dumbfounded by the rapidness of her healing ability, but I know I shouldn't be. After all, it's kind of what her people are known for. They are hard to kill, can heal wounds, and are vicious in hand-to-hand combat. All boxes are checked here.

"We'll get somewhere a little safer, and I'll wash these out with water and then bandage them. Afterwards, we head back."

"Sure, Orion."

I exhale a little more, still trying to calm my nerves, before starting back through the wooded forest, not trying to hide our footfalls or lower noise. We jog at a good clip, not an all-out run, but it takes us back to where we found the big cat's signage fairly rapidly. I crouch down once there and take a few minutes to bandage up the worst of my arm's wounds. After getting them wrapped about as well as I could with the minimal amount of bandaging gauze I carried, we set back out, heading toward where we initially pushed through the dense underbrush.