Oh! Now I did it. Freaking holy mother! There is an unconscious girl lying right in front of me. And she soiled herself right before blacking out. Dude is this bad? Awful. And the other three kids bailed like “dash!” and left her behind! A sacrifice? To appease the monster so they won’t be followed? I’m not eating her. Nope! Not even touching. But it is getting cold so I need to at least dry her.
“Gwooooo” (I’m sorry but I have to pick you up)
I pick up the girl, taking the ultimate care not to hurt her, or scratch her with my claws. Her wool robe is drenched. Lets take it off. Maybe I can use the dry parts to remove some moisture from her dress. Now, are these people halflings and not humans? They are rather small, and this girl is very lightweight. I could carry about 50 of them, I think. And right after I finish taking off the robe, a cold breeze catches her bare skin.
“achoo”
Startled, I can’t avoid brushing my hand against her skin. Ohhh this warmth. Bad, bad! Don’t go that way, me! This is bad, I need to keep her warm, so I must go a bit faster. I’m tearing the robes in half. You will probably hate me just for being a monster, so please pardon me for destroying clothing to keep your health. She can’t be exposed to cold air, so I turn around to face the campfire, sit down with my legs crossed and place her on my lap. I muster all my resolve to not harass her. No, sir, I won’t go down that dark path. I’m a person inside, you know? And I studied Kant and Sartre at school. I’d become a monster entirely if I did something bad here.
After a few minutes swabbing her skirt with the robe, I place her in one of the two remaining bedrolls, and use the last one as a blanket. Her staff will also go by her side. I don’t want her to feel any more insecure than what is already given from whom is keeping her company. Then I remove the boiling soup pot from the cooking rig and feed some sticks to the campfire. Now I need to hang her bedroll and robe to dry.
“Growllll” (I’m hungry)
The smell of the soup teases my belly. But the repulsive stench is still lingering around. Looking around, I find a glass flask nearby. It is an Erlenmeyer-ish kind of flask, with a weird purple liquid inside. I pick it up and bring it near my face, and the stench from it makes me throw away the flask as a reflex. The flask shatters against a tree and a puff of purple smoke comes out of it. We are upwind from the cloud, but I can feel the stinging stench even so. The urge to get away from it is great, but I’ll resist it.
I endure the stench for a few minutes, and then it is gone. This might be some sort of monster repellent, and breaking the vial is some kind of last resort. Now that it is gone, I can hang the wet bedroll and robe.
Now it is dinner time! What is on the Menu? Slightly burnt wolf soup. Rummaging through the bags left over by the three runaway kids, I find a wooden bowl. When I am about to scoop some soup, I hear rustling sounds nearby.
Standing up, I look around and sense some presences in the bushes outside the clearing.
“Groooan” (who goes there?)
As if answering to my challenging groan, two starved wolves jump out of the bushwork. From behind me. They dash in the clearing, aiming at my buttocks, maybe.
I turn around and offer them my left forearm sideways, like those dog trainers. I also move sideways to get closer to the sleeping girl, so to protect her from the other wolves that are still hiding.
The wolves take my offer of an exposed arm and jump to bite it. The first one bruises the arm and slips to the side, but the second one bites firmly and latches onto it. Just the opening I wanted.
Enduring the pain of the bites, I slash with my right hand the vulnerable belly of the wolf that is biting my arm. This is the same slash I practiced on a tree, and the wolf belly is way softer. The wolf’s blood and flesh splashes to my left side, and I finish swinging my left arm at the one that slipped, launching a backhand at it and flinging the now powerless wolf corpse away. I flinch from the pain as my arm is further ripped from the latched fangs.
The first wolf evades my weakened backhand swing, but it forcibly moves a bit further away from us. Ignoring my pain, I set both my knuckles on the ground, arching my body over the bedroll where the blonde girl is sleeping. Gorilla style.
Two more wolves come out. They are wary now that I killed one of them, and start to circle around me. I turn around in place, swaying my body left and right. With the campfire covering my rear, I can’t let them get my weak spot.
Surrounded, I move my head left and right to keep them in my sights. Focusing on the presences I feel, I can picture the scene in my head. There are two wolves at my left, one at my right, and three others still hiding in the bushes in front.
All the three wolves run at the same time towards me. I decide to face the two left ones, and move my left leg to block the path of the third one to the girl. I also squat in place dragging my body backwards while leaving both knuckles and feet in the same place. I lower my shoulders a bit more and aim my sight to the gap between the two wolves, that jump together like they’re some dance squad.
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Lunging forward and up with my head between the wolves, I quickly close the distance to them, and strike both with my horns. One wolf is pierced on the throat and gets stuck, and the other one is gouged on the shoulder blade, falling to the side. The third one barks behind me and bites my exposed thigh.
I swing my head sideways in order to fling the stuck wolf off of my horn, and the right wolf claws at my leg. As I turn around to attack it, a second bite connects. The sharp pain numbs me for a while, and the other wolf that has one incapacitated front paw stands up, while the one that just bit me takes some distance.
More wolves come out, three of them. And they are bigger than the others. The one in the middle seems to be the leader, the other two are still larger than the first ones, Red Streak’s lackeys. Its gray fur has some red streaks going across its back, and its neck is tuft y and feral. Drooling and menacing, I feel a sharp fear from facing it.
“Gwooooooooooo”
With a howl, red streak changes the mood of the other wolves, and all of them become more ferocious. I find myself surrounded by those five wolves. They keep barking left and right, alternating as to draw my attention around.
Panic starts to set in. Something drips on my forehead, is it sweat or blood from the gored wolf? The circle of wolves closes in slowly. I glance below me, and my eyes meet the blonde girl’s, that awakened at the worst time possible.
“Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii”
Blood drips from my horn on her hair and cheek. Oh, now I’ve done it but it is not my fault, ok? She looks around, and finds the wolves around us. Also her staff. She grabs it and brings the staff close to her chest. She glances at me, then at the wolves. Her scared face is too much for me
My attention gone, the wolves take the opportunity to launch a combined attack. At the sound of the jumps and growls, my only care is to cover the girl. I clench my teeth and close my eyes, trying to harden my muscles to endure the attack.
I am bit on both legs and both arms by the wolves, the two normal woves on the left, the underlings on the right, while red streak goes for my neck. I move my head sideways towards it, but it is too late to pierce it with the horn. It just scrapes his fur, but it is not undamaged. Red streak bites me, but due to my horn it fails to latch on.
A burning pain unlike any before irradiates from my right shoulder. I let out a roar in pain.
“Gwaaaarooooooo” (damn it that hurts)
“Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii”
The girl panics from my roar and launches her staff towards my chin. Pang! I bit my tongue. Sorry to scare you, but I am trying to keep us both alive!!!!
The wolves that latched onto me start to swing their heads, tearing even more flesh in the process. Red Streak walks around like a floor manager overseeing his workers. It does not forget to growl and glance at me menacing. It won’t let its guard down, now that he is not unscathed.
Bite, growl, bark, and bite some more. The wolves keep biting, and the pain is overwhelming. Red Streak is wary, but is leaving the hard work to his lackeys. The one with a gouged foreleg gives up after it seems that they will win, and keeps its distance.
“Hooooooo” (Is this my friend, the end?)
I cry, and my eyes meet the girl’s again. She is quivering and clenching her staff. When see finds out she got my attention, she quickly pulls up the fur blanket, covering her head. I lower my head in despair, and my horn’s tip touch the ground just above the bedroll. I look forward without moving my head, but all I can see is grass. But I can still track the position of the wolves by their sounds. The pain from the bites is vanishing slowly. I look at my left arm where the first wolves bit, and the wounds are gone.
Red streak stops, and seems to be looking at my exposed neck. It takes some distance, and runs towards me. This may be the end for me. I don’t think I can survive a neck bite from Red Streak.
After a few moments that felt like an eternity, red streak jumps over my laid horns and comes to the finisher.
“Haowuuuuugraaaaaww” (Now is the time!)
Take this! Super monster horn tackle dash!
I tackle forward like an American football player, lunging up with my horns at the same time. I look up and there I see that unblemished soft belly I hoped to see. Leaving my defensive position over the girl, I tilt my head sideways plunge both my horns into Red Streak’s belly. I feel some ribs scraping over my right horn, but the left one pierces clean on its organs.
“GROOOOOOAAAAN” (Victory is mine!)
My victory roar intimidates the remaining wolves, that stop dead on their tracks. Maybe having their boss as a tree ornament atop my horns helps with the message. I see with a corner of my eye the bedroll quivering. Maybe it is super effective?
I quickly stand up and turn to my right where the two lackey wolves are. Then I jump up and forward, flinging my head down like some heavy metal headbanger, tossing Red Streak down towards the two lackey wolves.
Not wasting a moment, I dash forward, lifting both claws and launching double claws at the lying down Red Streak. And they connect. I clench my fingers in order to latch the claws to Red Streak’s flesh. The lackey wolves run half a dozen meters away, cowering in fear.
Then instinct takes over me, and as if it is natural I bite the wolf flank. Raw flesh, thick fur come out as I gouge a hole on Red Streak’s Flank. I spit it out at once, when I realize what I just did.
“Gaooooo” (don’t come near!)
I roar to the wolf on the other side, it seemed to attempt an opportunity to attack the defenseless girl in the bedroll. What vicious critters!
I leave the wheezing Red Streak on the ground, and dash over the campfire to attack the daring wolf. When I pass over the fire, my thighs are singed by the fire, but I pay no mind to it. Running like a gorilla on all fours like it is natural, I quickly close the distance to the wolf.
The wolf dodges my horns, but falls prey to my claws. Instead of a simple slash, this is a grappling claw attack! With my right hand, I dig deep into the muscles of its hind thigh until I find the femur, then I grab with all my strength, lift, swing it sideways and savagely slam the poor wolf headfirst into the ground. It whimpers while I let go of my hand and kick it into a nearby tree. Goal!
My mood is terrible right now. I look around, and the wolf with the wounded foreleg is running away, limping with its tail between the legs. The lackeys run forward from the edge of the clearing to the campsite, but the campfire is between us.
For a while I think they are going for the girl, but they stop, seize some dead rabbits that were next to one of the packs, and then turn 180, making a dash for their lives. Not that I will let you.
Running forward, I pick a kitchen knife and a cutting board that were lying around on each hand, close some distance before tossing one after the other toward the lackey wolves. The knife hits the first one near the tail, and the board hits the second one on the head. It is dazed.
Gaining momentum over the wounded wolves, I jump up and stomp over the dazed one, crushing some of its bones. I kick it backwards, regain my balance with my knuckles and dash towards the last wolf with a big knife wound on its rear quarter.
It can’t run faster than me with a wounded leg. I grab its tail, swing the wolf overhead and slam it to the ground. Then I pull it close, and use the other claw sever its neck.
I return to the campsite fast, leaving the wolf corpses behind. I’m afraid for the girl’s safety.