3. The Feral Lepur_The Beast of Ildenwood

They have been walking for some hours when he sees Lahab freeze, her head popping up curiously. She holds a calloused palm up to silence him, and he, too, comes to a stop behind her. A few seconds pass before he hears the rustling, too, and it is rustling that is quite distinct from the normal whispers of wind and tree that he has become accustomed to.

Off to their left, and approaching at great speed. In fact, lest his ears be tricking him, it is approaching faster than anything he has ever before encountered.

And how would I know? I can’t remember anything I’ve encountered.

Lahab tsks. “It’s coming this way,” she whispers quietly, then looks around, her head swerving from side to side as she considers their predicament, dark brown eyes darting from here to there as she thinks of a way out. Her arms tighten around the bundle in her arms – the one she will not allow him to carry for her – while the sack is hoisted over her shoulder like a scarf.

“What’s coming?” he asks, not entirely sure he wants to hear the answer. He, too, is searching, but knows not for what – knows only that they cannot outrun it, and every second it approaches them at alarming speed.

“A very dangerous beast,” she mutters, and eyes the trees closest to them. “Can you climb?”

He doesn’t know, but he figures he can try.

“Quick!” she hisses desperately. She means to see him to safety before she can do so herself, and there is no time to argue.

He climbs, and finds it surprisingly easy. There is no hesitation in his movements, no uncertainty, as though his body has done this many times before, and his muscles have retained the memory his mind has hidden away from him. In just a few seconds he’s halfway up the tree, and he leans on a thick branch, glancing down at Lahab with her sack and her bundle.

If she’s surprised, she doesn’t show it. Maybe there’s simply not enough time. “Don’t drop this!” she warns him, and sends the bundle up to him with an impressively accurate throw. He catches it, holding fast to the mysterious object, and watches as she climbs up another three, standing tall beside his. She makes quick work of it, though it takes her longer than it had taken him.

A beast comes barreling out of the bushes, nothing more than a blur of white as it crosses their path. It disappears too quickly, and he is unable to make it out, except for a large ear-like appendage, swift-moving legs, and a horn that leads the way like a spear into battle. He meets Lahab’s eyes in the tree beside him, and she holds a finger to her lips, telling him to keep quiet.

For a while, they stay up there, and were he not keener he would not understand why. The beast seems gone, and time, as Lahab so keenly put it, is of the essence. But he sees it, just as Lahab undoubtedly sees it, waiting silently in her tree – a small movement in the bush. Something is there.

The more he stares at it, the more detail he can make out – down to the white furred creature crouching patiently behind the mass of dense, dentate leaves and sinewy twigs, twisting around one another in a natural barrier. Its horn, large and difficult to hide, juts out from behind the bushy foliage, but its colour blends in with its surroundings, moss-grown and darkened as it is, and he can see how it might be difficult to notice.

“What is it?” he whispers, mostly to himself. There is something familiar about this beast, and he does not know why that is. Perhaps he has encountered one before. Perhaps he has studied them. In either case, the familiarity is there, and it is an unpleasant reminder that, try as he might, he cannot reach the memory responding to the image he sees before him.

As though to answer his question, another parchment materializes and unfurls before him, and he reads it curiously.

A fierce mammal that hunts its prey and attacks when it is least expected.

“That’s very helpful,” he mutters sarcastically, dismissing it. There was nothing new there that he couldn’t figure out himself. But a fierce mammal? It could be any number of things.

Still, he realizes he is not afraid. There’s a feeling – a small, background feeling, like an instinct that he has – that he can triumph over this beast. He’s not quite sure why or how, but he simply knows that this trifling creature cannot hold him back. He feels the urge to jump from his tree and face it head-on. How odd, he thinks, but glances around the ground below him, seeking the best landing point.

“Wait!” Lahab hisses, as though she can read his mind. He glances over at her, with her brown hair tumbling over her shoulder, tied loosely with a leather cord just below her earlobe. Sunlight, filtering through the leaves, paints a pattern upon her. “Not yet, Wanderer,” she whispers. “It is not safe.”

And so he waits. Lahab knows better than he does. She knows this place. She called it her forest. And the last thing he wants to do is die not because of his fatal curse but a stupid mistake.

For a moment, he think of his title – the one she has used to call him by ever since learning it – and wonders what it means. Wanderer of Realms. Perhaps he was a traveler, moving from region to region. A nomad without a home. Perhaps that is how he came to be in Lahab’s forest. Possibly, he met some foul beast that cursed him, or came across a group of bandits with a spellcaster among them.

As intriguing as his thoughts are, the longer he waits, the more impatient he becomes. Are they going to simply stay up in a tree until the animal below them decides they’re tired of waiting? They could be here for hours! They do not have the time – him, especially.

Every hour that passes, more of his Life Force is drained. And every hour that passes, his Energy depletes at an alarming pace. What others could do in the span of a day, he cannot do in his current state. He has already lost a significant amount today, and the longer he is awake, the more he tires. He does not want to waste his energy sitting in a tree watching a quick-footed horned beast.

Lahab’s feet dangle from her branch, high off the ground below them. She seems to be rummaging through that patched up old sack of hers, looking for something in particular. While she’s occupied, he has the urge to unwrap the item in his hands and take a peek at whatever it is Lahab is so protective of. He doesn’t dare – not with her just feet away from him, not with her being the only person who can help him. He would not betray her trust for something so trivial as his own curiosity, and the contents of the bundle, though undoubtedly of great importance to her, are none of his concern. Finally, she pulls out a fist-sized object wrapped in white cloth.

“I didn’t want to use this,” she sighs, shaking her head. “We won’t have much left for the trip ahead, but I suppose we’ll survive.”

She unwraps it, and he is hit with the delicious smell of smoked & salted dried meat. His stomach rumbles in appreciation, and there’s a twinge of disappointment as he watches Lahab lob the delicious meat just a small distance away from where they are.

As quick as a flash, the white beast pounces. It attacks the meat with a ferociousness that is uncalled for, and he watches in fascination as it rips it apart with its teeth, a consistent low growl emanating from its small, furry body. Not, at least, with it in the open, he can study its form.

“It’s… a miraj,” he says, but he’s uncertain. The ones he knows don’t behave like this… Do they? He can’t remember. It is simply the first word that pops into his mind at the sight of the beast, and he simply knows that the creature he thinks of is not meant to behave like that.

Lahab cocks her head. “Miraj?” she echoes. “No, that is a feral lepur. Faster than lightning, with teeth like sharpened blades. Oh, it looks adorable and harmless and small, but it could feast on animals twice its size – rare, but it has been documented. However...”

She nods at the little monster with a smile. “They can’t run quite as fast with their bellies full. And they’re quite lovely, really, when they’re not hungry and trying to impale you on their horns. You’ll see. I’m quite partial to them.”

He can feel his brows shoot up in his forehead. In all fairness, he has the impression that Lahab is quite partial to everything in the forest – after all, she has called it her forest. “Shouldn’t we… leave while it’s occupied?”

“Oh, no,” Lahab says quickly. “It’ll hunt us down right away. Give it a moment to finish and digest its food. Then, when it’s all happy and satisfied, we can pass. This way, nobody is hurt.”

You have unlocked the feral lepur. To see its learned information, access your Guidebook.

“Show me the feral lepur,” he says out of curiosity, and his book materializes, opening of its own volition and flipping through many pages until at last it stops at the page he is seeking.

Feral Lepur

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Habitat

Ildenwood Forest

[https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QdA1xD5Ec3g/YH-nSy0n13I/AAAAAAAAAjE/tykBToDRixcTSIdSzsBAf6mOb2-m_W4PQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1920/feral%2Blepur.png]

Type

Mammal

Diet

Mainly carnivorous

Life span

???

Description

Short, rounded tail.

Strong hind legs.

Long, rounded ears.

Sharp, pointed teeth.

Large, pointed horn; can be moss-grown.

Abilities

Can run down its prey at unparalleled speeds, impale them upon its horn, and rip them apart using its razor-sharp teeth.

Limitations

Is significantly slower and lazier when digesting its food.

Wanderer’s Additions

Similar in physical appearance to a miraj.

He supposes that this is what everyone has in their Guidebook when they have encountered or studied an animal – a page completely dedicated to everything they have learned about the creature. Life span is hidden from me, but I think that is because I simply haven’t learned about it or observed it to find out. But there is one element that interests him – the Wanderer’s Additions.

Surely, everyone has their own additions to make to such pages, he reasons. But the word – miraj – this is something new, something he has just remembered. It is his first memory , though there is no image to attach to it, and nothing more than the realization that the feral lepur reminds him of this creature.

“Now,” Lahab tells him, breaking him from his train of thought. As he dismisses his book, she climbs down gingerly, and hold her arms out to catch the bundle. He tosses it to her gently, aware that it is something of great value to her, and climbs down the tree even quicker than he climbed up, all but jumping off his branch is a smooth motion.

Down on the ground at last, he watches Lahab approach the beast, which is now lying on its side, a look of contentment on its face as it digests its meal. She is right; it is much kinder now that it has eaten, and it leans into Lahab’s palm, rubbing its face against her skin, its razor-sharp teeth safely tucked away from view. It stretches its paws, flashing the claws held within.

"This one is but an adolescent," Lahab tells him. "She will continue to grow, and soon she might even reach my height. It is my duty to protect the creatures within my domain, and I hold them all in high regard." She sighs contentedly, massaging the lepur's ears in gentle patterns - something the lepur seems to enjoy quite a bit, for she closes her eyes and purrs loudly.

He crouches beside the creature, too, more out of curiosity than anything else, and lays his hand upon its belly, where its fur is the longest. Its warmth radiates through him, and he senses the constant purr emanate from the lepur. He cannot help the feeling of calm and happiness that this simple act infuses him with, and for a moment all he wants is to remain here, patting the adorable little beast with the horn that could impale him.

The feral lepur’s purring has a restorative effect.

You have gained +2 Energy.

“Here,” Lahab says, pulling a large circular loaf of flat, hardened bread with aromatic herbs out from the sack. A peculiar sack, he thinks, for it looks as though it could not possible be holding anything at all. “We should eat as well. Our journey is still long ahead of us.”

He takes the half that she breaks off for him and takes a bite, surprised at the pleasant taste. It is not more than a few steps before he has already heartily downed half of his piece, and decides with hesitation that he should be more responsible with the food, since he does not know how much longer they will be before reaching their destination.

When they begin to make their way to the Kingdom of Samat once more, they leave behind them the satisfied and much more docile lepur, snoozing on the forest floor.

🐇

Unbeknownst to the Wanderer, two new additions are made to his book’s page on the feral lepur: