Elizardbeth was cold and wet. She hated being cold.and wet. Her sandals sat unused in his rucksack as the four trudged along, Sela in the lead.

The damp soil was pocketed by puddles and there didn't seem to be a reason. The sky was dark but clear, so it hadn’t rained here and River made it seem like that was probably true for the entire time the burrow had existed.

When Elizardbeth asked how long the burrows had existed she got a noncommittal shrug. Some things were beyond even the druids it seemed.

It had been hours since they crossed the gateway and the silence was getting loud. Under the crunch of their paws the lake bed looked tired and dry and then they hit another puddle.

"Hold," Sela said raising his paw.

The fancy otter grabbed his bow and immediately strung an arrow.

"How many?" River asked crowding around him. Mark and Elizardbeth joined them in a thankfully dry patch.

"Just one," Sela paused to listen, "only one. We can’t hide here, we need to attack if it is what I think it is."

A thump ahead put the lizard on edge. What could spook a druid and a ranger? What kind of beast lived here?

A furry face popped up over a berm.

"Oh, that's a…" She said.

Slitted yellow eyes looked at them impassively. Elizardbeth huddled behind Sela, drawing her belt knife. The creature had the face of a cat, but it stood three times taller than any she had ever seen.

"Take the children," River said, transforming into a beautiful dark bird,"hit it with arrows as I try to draw it away."

The flapping of Rivers' wings gave away her location but then Elizardbeth could no longer see her. The beast narrowed it's eyes watching something in the dark.

It wasn’t until Mark grabbed his own short staff that she realized that she was gripping on for dear life. Both to Mark and to her knife.

"Stick behind me, and don't be a hero. You are both more useful alive, plus I would love to hear more about your complaints, Elizardbeth," Sela winked as her. Winked!

She was going to have a word with the fancy otter himbo if she made it out alive.

A streak of flame interrupted the dark as an arrow flew from the air towards the beast.

The new view proved to Elizardbeth once and for all that she did not want to meet this kitty. The beast snarled at the flame arrow smacking at it with a front paw.

"Two...one…" the fancy otter said, then loosed an arrow, replacing it faster than she could watch. He might be dressed immaculately but he was every bit the fighter she had to grudgingly admit.

For a long second they didn't know if the arrow hit, then a low growl erupted as the beast leapt towards the trio.

"Give me a shot,” yelled Sela.

"Uh, Sela?" Mark whispered.

"Almost…" replied Sela, taking his dear sweet time to focus on the task.

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He lined up his bow at the approaching beast.

Mark grabbed Elizardbeth by the hand, nearly bowling her over as they tried to get out of the way. Both rolled into the dirt, getting soaked once again

Silently, Elizardbeth cursed the raven for sending her here.

"Now!" Sela shouted. He fired a smoldering arrow into the cat's backside. The missile met its mark as it impaled the creature's tail. With quick reflexes Sela ducked and rolled away to distract the beast further.

Above him, the druid flapped dark wings.

A fire arrow shot down from River, impaling the cat's backside. It was apparent that the druid was aiming for the tail because it stuck in.

Missing all three of her quarries, the beast spun to reassess.

The beast let out a roar of anguish as its fur smoked and blazed from the fire arrow. The cat desperately tried to track down its prey, but the pain and smoke overloaded the cat's senses, blinding her.

It was at this point that the beast realized that parts of its fur were on fire. The billowing fumes was now blinding the Initiates as Sela ran up to Mark and Elizardbeth.

He bodily grabbed both up from the ground.

"Twenty paces, hit that berm and over, run!" commanded Sela.

Elizardbeth ran like her life depended on it. She cursed every day that she hadn’t exercised and promised that she would in the future and it wasn't until both landed on the other side of the berm and peeked over that they breathed.

Thwop.

The sound of another arrow shooting towards the beast gave her hope as the fire grew. The beast paid it no mind.

Thwop.

She couldn't see the face, but she was sure that Sela had landed a hit. The fire grew again and the beast shimmied, turning to look directly at Sela rather than the flying harassing bird.

Thwop.

"Sela!" She yelled, "You need to run!"

Thwop.

As the beast lowered into a crouch to spring forwards it became apparent that half of its back was on fire and the fire was not content to stay put. Still, it was just a minor annoyance to the beast as much as it struck fear into Elizardbeths heart.

Thwop.

Enraged, the beast howled and sprang at the lone otter.

"Finally," he said, in a neutral voice.

Tossing his bow to the side, he drew his sword. Sela slashed overhead as he stepped forward, the beast overshooting him.

Elizardbeth heard the drips of viscera or blood.

Sela faced off against the beast.

Focusing on her breathing, she burned her red mist, trying to reach for something.

There must be a way to make that arrow. Closing her eyes, she drew the arrow with her mind. Opening her eyes, she held a flaming rock sized object in her hand, but it didn't burn her.

She gasped as she whiffed it, tossing the rock nowhere near her target. She resolved to never be in this kind of situation again.

Still the beast looked at the pitiful fire on the dry lakebed, as if analyzing the possible things it could be.

That was when the fire migrated to it's entire torso and the land really lit up. Dancing flames caught onto shadows all around the otter as he ducked and weaved through a series of claw and bite attacks until his steel met claw head on.

The sound was deafening and the following thump made even Mark look unsettled. A dust cloud kicked up, obscuring the fighters.

"Do you think we should stay down? There's an awful lot of dust. Maybe we should move or… or," Mark asked, his stoic facade slipping.

"Get a- get a hold of yourself," she scolded, "We wait for them. That was a loud thump, it must have been the beast." However convincing she sounded, the truth was that she was unsure of herself.

A wave of exhilaration washed through Elizardbeth as Sela calmly walked through the dust towards them. On one shoulder, he rested a black sheath, and on the other, he held a bloody sword out. Not a stitch was out of place as he carefully pulled out a rag and began cleaning his weapon.

"The beast is dead. River is going to circle the area and look down from the sky now, so stay vigilant. Sit back to back, and for Nithes sake, eat something."

Sela looked at the rag in disgust, throwing it at the smoldering remains of the beast.

"I'm serious about the eating part. I am going to cook some wild beast up for River, but you can use dried rations if you're not comfortable," Sela said.

Elizardbeth gaped at the ranger.

Then her stomach gurgled, angrily demanding tribute.

“Very well, we will do as the ranger asks,” she said.