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My tail instantly goes limp, and with a little stutter from my butt, my [Tailcopter] finishes its rotation.

The sounds of rushing water mixed with the piercing cry of Swiftrunner assail my ears as I feel myself begin to fall into the chasm we’d almost cleared.

Yep. This little ‘copter’s fresh outta juice.

Corgi down. I repeat: Corgi down.

Or at least, I would be, if a certain white wolf didn’t latch onto me with his teeth.

“I have you, Little-Brother!”

He’s hanging off a hard, dirt caked root that just gives him enough reach to grab the scruff of my neck and throw me over to the other side of the chasm wall which, literally seconds ago, was about to be the last thing I saw in my short life.

There’s some benefits to being a short pup, after all.

I let myself fall, my breathing heavy, stuttered and raspy. My tail feels like it’s about to fall off.

[Tailcopter Cooldown: 6 hours]

Good! I cry with my last ounce of determination. I don’t know if my butt could take much more of that…

Swiftrunner and I pant together on the ground, both in disbelief over our survival.

My eyes eventually blink through the sweat beading on my forehead and I see the three spiders still stamping away in fury on the other side of the bridge. They watch us like devious, mute sentinels, while a dead wind blows through the chasm between us.

“Creepy…” I whisper. “Why are they just standing there?”

“Who can know the ways of the minions of the Darkseed?” Swiftrunner replies. ‘I do not think we should be waiting here to find out. Come, Little-Brother.”

He noses me up and I groan in pain. “Where…where are we?”

On this side of the chasm the trees of the forest are gone. Instead, a thick fog stretches out before us, covering what looks like nothing more than a barren field.

“The Plains of Rowan,” Swiftrunner says. “We are slightly off track, but if we forge on we should still make it to Glumgavel in good time. We must –“

“AH!”

Another familiar stabbing strikes at my brain like the breaking of a lute string, and my ‘upgrades’ present themselves to me in a flash of lambent light behind my eyes:

COMBAT ENCOUNTER RESULTS: CORGI AND COMMON WOLF SUCCESSFUL FLIGHT

[Core Skill Increases]:

Snoop LVL 2 -> 3

*MORPH AVAILABLE

CHOOSE MORPH:

PENETRATING SNOOP: SNOOP NOW ALLOWS FOR PERCEPTION THROUGH SURFACES AND OBJECTS MADE OF NATURAL MATERIALS

SCHOLARLY SNOOP: SNOOP NOW OFFERS MORE INFORMATION ON UNFRIENDLY OR NEUTRAL ENTITIES INCLUDING {WEAKNESSES}, {RESISTANCES} AND {AFFILIATIONS}

I shake off the aching headache that I’m (unfortunately) beginning to get used to and look up at Swiftrunner with glazed eyes.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

“Swifty…” I say. “What you think is more important: knowing more or seeing through walls and…stuff…”

The answer of the white wolf is hazy. In fact, his whole body is.

“-le Brother?”

I’m literally about to faint again, aren’t i?

I drop to the ground and see the spiders again on the other side of the chasm. If they could, I bet they’d be smiling away right now. Ever since I woke up and everything in this crappy world wants to kill me…

“- Brother!” Swiftrunner calls again.

“I -mm,” I murmur. “Time for…sleepy time…”

----------------------------------------

A set of paws running down a cobblestone path.

A creature running with boundless joy through a town.

Tongue lolling out his stupid mouth.

“Heh. You’re a guy who likes simple joys, eh?”

The beady eyes of the dog look at me, and then I feel myself enter those eyes. I’m running, but the paws aren’t mine.

They feel alien. From another place, another time. They’re the paws of a dog that couldn’t care less about the world. The paws of a dog running home for head scratchies.

Then the cobblestones melt away, replaced by tufts of dying grass. My paws become the booted feet of a human, and my eyes are framed by a visor through which I see it all: my comrades. Men, women, pointy-eared elves, stone-clad colossi, beastkin and other beings I've never even seen before all wearing the same eagle emblazoned armor like me.

A grey, double-headed eagle.

They’re screaming in pain, impaled by thorny, vicious spikes that sprout from the ground and pierce their hearts.

“DON’T STOP!” someone shouts beside me.

I know the voice. A woman’s. It’s someone close to me. Someone who means something.

But I can’t just ignore what’s happening. The screaming. The death. The throbbing ache in my heart as those I’ve led here die all around me, blood bubbling down their mouths and coating each spike growth…

"WHERE IS THORN!? WHERE ARE THE RESERVES!?"

"IT DOESN'T MATTER! JUST KEEP PUSHING!"

Something’s laughing in the distance. Something we’re all running towards.

It’s big. It’s so big it blots out the sky above. The clouds themselves are blackened by its touch. It’s malicious smile drips with joy to see us fall, one by one, beneath it. And there’s times where its eyes find me in the gradually thinning crowd and stays focused on my sprinting form, like it was looking for me the whole time.

I can feel its eyes. I can know it’s heart. I can almost sense the one emotion radiating from its vine-wreathed brain: hate. Hate for us – all of us. Hate for this world.

But a special kind of hate reserved just for me. A personal kind.

Only when the warrior at my back screams her last breath do I realize that we were dead the moment we decided to fight.

----------------------------------------

A hastily made log fire rouses me from my sleep.

This time I don’t waste time moping around. I jump up, see Swiftrunner’s worried look, and instantly look down at my paw.

“What the…”

It’s swelled up to the size of a balloon. Purpled and decaying, oozing with puss at the exact spot where the spider’s needle had impaled me.

I only momentarily assess my surroundings: we seem to be holed up on a hillock under an old birch tree.

“Stay still, Raziel,” Swiftrunner barks, his tone sharp and serious. “Your wound needs to heal.”

“It ain’t…doing such a good…job…” I say with a gulp.

I can barely even feel the paw. Can’t look at it either if I’m honest. The think is bloating under my body, pulsing like it’s got a life of its own.

“I need to improve my…vomit…resistance…”

I would have collapsed again if Swiftrunner didn’t catch me with his snout.

“Come on,” he says. “You need to conserve your strength.”

I force myself to look down at the needle embedded in my paw and, against my still sweating brow, decide to take a chance.

[Snoop] MORPH SELECTED: PENETRATING SNOOP

The world darkens till I see nothing but the needle, and my pupils dilate to predatory slits.

“By Lyca…” Swiftrunner whispers. “The power of the Lightborn…”

The needle’s surface is sheared away and I’m looking now inside the tiny, thin projectile, seeing the clump of poison that it holds at its end.

Poison that’s currently being pumped into my bloodstream.

Object Identified: Venus Malleus (Advanced Level Poison)

Effect: {WEAKNESS}, {NAUSEA}, {CRIPPLE} AND {NUMBNESS} FOR 72 HOURS.

“Sw-Swiftrunner…” I pant. “Can the spiders here really do this much…damage? This is some…overpowered…venom.”

He shakes his head. “Spiders of the Deshaan Demesne do not carry venom within their bodies.”

I give a rough cough. “Th-then something else…did this.”

“Or someone,” Swiftrunner nods.

I fall at his paws, my head going totally numb once more.

“I can’t…” I moan. “I ca-I can’t walk…”

“You must!” Swiftrunner says, hoisting me up and trying to nose some strength into me.

“A nuzzle ain’t gonna cut it…Swift…”

My whole body feels like ice. I’m a little Corgi icicle ready to collapse and break apart.

Then I feel the white wolf lift me up again and hoist me onto his back.

"Then I shall carry you,” he says. “We shall make it. We must.”

I almost want to tell him that he should just let me die, lick my blood, and do this whole sorry quest himself. If I can’t survive an encounter with some spiders, then what good am I?

Then I remember the 79.999...% chance of death taking my blood carries with it...

I must have said some of this out loud, because he howled with such strength that his voice traveled through the fog itself.

“You have already shown how amazing you can be, Raziel! I have told you before: I am here to be your guide. Even if you cannot move, I shall get you to Glumgavel. I swear this on my life, on my honor as a wolf of Clan Jagged-Tooth!”

I laugh. He really should be the one…doing this.

“So, come on!” he howls again. “This is not over till I take my last breath!”

“Oi!” a voice suddenly calls out from the fog below our hill.

I feel Swiftrunner freeze, and immediately tense up. His hackles are raised again. His teeth chittering on edge.

He's afraid.

“Swifty..?” I murmur.

“Hold,” he says with a low growl, snarling at the shadowed form approaching us with heavy, laborious footsteps. “I think we are about to see who our hidden assailant truly is.”