Quick thinger

Thought i'd try a hand at making a Felarya fic if everyone else is doing it Not really sure it's any good, though...

Anyway, this is story with a character i made up, a Komodo dragon squamataur. May expand on him later, maybe

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This sucked.

No doubt about it. This sucked.

He stopped briefly to put a hand on his pained back, mumbling at himself. So hot. His human half was practically drenched with sweat. His unkept hair itched maddeningly. His skin was roasting under the sun. And his tauric half wasn’t doing any better. Long claws sunk in dirt and sand, the same that clung to mottled scales and irritated the skin underneath. His long tail and belly were burning from abrasion. Limbs felt like they were going to give out. Those cursed flies, buzzing and buzzing around him...not good. Not good at all. The weirdest thing, he normally would be revelling in this weather. But, today? It wasn’t fun. It wasn’t fun at all


How in blazes did he get that idea? He had the perfect place to rest. It was cool, it was shady, it had water, it had everything you could ask for when you’re in the Maze! But noooo, he had to go and keep going just because. And now he was lost. AGAIN. He didn’t know for how long he had been wandering, the puddle of water he had found was awfully bitter, those stupid flies just won’t leave him alone….And to top it off, he still hadn’t eaten anything since he woke up. Simply great.

He would have continued cursing to himself, hadn’t he suddenly heard a sound. A voice? Couldn’t be sure. Didn’t matter now. He scrambled over to a nearby rock formation, kept his body as close to the ground as possible, and peeked.


A rock harpy. A little one, feathers being little more than beige fuzz. She was sitting in a protruding rock, happily chewing what he assumed was some kind of meat. And there she was, alone. Alone! What were the odds? Why there wasn’t an adult around? As far as he knew, harpies never leaved their children’s side. And yet there she was! Suspicious, very suspicious. Could easily be a trap….

But his stomach growled, an almost angry tone. There was no helping it.

Quietly, ever so quietly, he slowly crawled towards the chick, following the crevices around her as cover. Red saliva poured from his mouth in anticipation. He licked his lips. He could do this, same as always. One bite. Just one bite to the neck. She’d fall easily. And if she ran away, the bacteria would do the rest. Easy kill, he thought to himself, couldn’t be more lucky. Closer and closer he sneaked. She wasn’t noticing him. Almost there, almost there…


And then a loud roar, and he was thrown backwards, against the rocks, with a dry thud.


Dazed and pained, he rolled around himself and stood up again, just in time to avoid the sudden, grasping claws.

There was the mother, all right. Yelling at cursing at him like only harpies could, all the while summoning gust after gust of strong wind at the squamataur. He would yell back, hiss at her, snap his teeth, protest bitterly. This wasn’t fair! He needs to eat too! She wouldn’t listen, of course, blasting and swooping in motherly rage. All the way the chick observed curiously, even threw threats of her own

In the end, he could only run away, angrily gritting his teeth. He was exhausted, he was thirsty, he was wounded. He couldn’t take on this crap. And worse, his stomach still rumbled loudly as he scampered. Why me, he asked himself. Why it had to be always him?

He stopped at a large shape to his left. A dead Lurker, not much bigger than him, cracked and squashed as if it had fell from a cliff. That harpy must have been hunting it, he thought, food for herself and her daughter. Then he arrived

And now he didn’t need to think twice. Immediately he rushed to the steaming carcass, forced the shattered shell open with his own hands, and began stuffing his mouth full of crab meat. Delicious. Simply delicious.

He briefly looked behind him, watching the harpy fly away with her daughter clumsily following behind. They still were sending looks of hate directly at him. He couldn’t care less. So much food, and it was now his!

Perhaps this wouldn’t be a bad day after all..

Can't really find anything wrong with this. It's supposed to be short; so there's no complaints about the length. Your sentence structure is good, the descriptions are nice and the narrative flows well.