Peacock stared at the mob in front of him and mentally kicked himself. He had to think about bears. Why not fluffy bunnies, or tiny finches? Nope. He imagined house-sized bears.
While the ursine monster sniffing at the air wasn’t quite the size of a house, it was twice the size of Peacock. Its size, lack of level info, and giant mouth full of sharp teeth would have been plenty to alert Peacock of the need to stay far, far away, but for extra flair, bony spikes protruded down its back and legs.
Peacock didn’t budge, hadn’t budged since he’d noticed the bear tromping toward him. With no dunes to hide in, he’d settled for a cluster of scrawny mountain trees. The fact he could clearly see the bear with his nose smashed against tree bark told him all he needed to know about how effective trees were for a dragon to hide behind.
Fortunately, his hide skill said nothing about having to hide behind something. Peacock just had to hope the bear’s seeking wasn’t great.
The bear snuffed and pawed the ground. It looked bored.
That’s right. Just walk away, nothing to see here.
The bear roared, rising on its back feet until the upper parts of the trees obscured its face.
It knew he was there.
Shiiit. Peacock bolted, a giant bear's paw slamming into the tree he left.
Crack. The trunk split and splintered, throwing wooden shrapnel in all directions as the top crashed onto the forest floor.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Sharp stings covered Peacock’s backside as the shrapnel hit, spurring him to greater speeds.
Don’t die, don’t die, don’t die! The chant richocheted in his head. He sprinted between trees and over fallen logs, the crunches and cracks of his furred doom-bringer getting ever closer.
It’s gaining! I can’t outrun it!
Peacock’s eyes flicked across the rapidly passing landscape. He was on a plateau. Flat ground spread out all around him. No sheer faces to climb and seeing how he’d bolted in the opposite direction of where he’d climbed up, he couldn’t jump back down the mountainside, either.
More trees exploded behind him, toothpicks under the bear’s mighty paws.
Peacock yelled as a gust of wind blew past the tip of his tail, followed by the bear’s angry roar. Damn it, I’m running out of time!
A dip in the ground on his right. Peacock veered toward it, eliciting more crashes from behind as the bear changed direction with far less grace.
Please be a cliff face. From his angle, he couldn’t tell how deep the dip was, but he’d rather take his chances careening down a cliff than with the spiky, raging mob about to chew him apart.
The small dip grew larger as he approached, dropping at a far sharper angle than it seemed from further away. As he neared the edge, Peacock could see another cliff face further down, two parts of the same mountain split by a river.
Peacock jumped.
Air whistled past, dulling the furious cries of the bear. Peacock twisted, head up and claws out. His claws caught against the stone and dirt of the ravine wall with a screech that set his teeth on edge. Pain screamed up his limbs. He dug in deeper. Of all the ways he’d experienced pain in this world, he was positive fall damage was a thing. While he didn’t want to be mob lunch, he didn’t want to be a splat on the river, either.
The wind rushing past slowed. The outcropping he’d dug into ended. Peacock scrabbled at empty air as his claws came loose, his thoughts gibbering as his rump hit the ground hard enough to knock his teeth together and make bits of light bloom in his vision.
HEALTH BELOW TEN PERCENT