Grendel hummed to himself as he trampled his way through the shrubbery. It just seemed to get thicker and thicker the further he went, and more than once he had ended with gashes from thorny branches. But it didn’t matter to him right now. He just had hit the jackpot.
On one of his hands he held a large wagon of metal and wood, those that humans used in great numbers to trade and journey around in their “caravans”. He found it while stopping at the river for a drink, and it was packed full of the delicious manlings. At least six stood to face him, and he had made short and tasty work of them. The rest simply flocked inside the wagon and tried to run away, but he lifted them off the ground before they could. And now they were unable to leave, still screaming and struggling to break free from his grasp, no matter how futile it was. How many were inside? Ten? Thirteen? His already drooling mouth watered even more at the thought. What a meal he had gotten!
But he wasn’t going to eat yet. He had to find the perfect spot, somewhere hot and sunny, under a tree if possible. All the best to rest and leisurely eat his snacks with no worries. Yeah, that’d be pretty nice! Now if he found a way out of here already…
And he found it. Eventually the forest was getting clearer, and the trees and leaf litter opened to an expansive meadow, full of tall grass and strangely-coloured flowers. And no clouds in the sky whatsoever. This is it, he thought to himself, it’s perfect. That one clump of rocks in the distance seemed like a good place. With lifted spirits, he pushed away the last shrub on his path and started to cross the grassland.
He stopped midway through
Kensha beasts. Three of them. They were on the right side of the meadow, youngsters finishing the last scraps of their latest kill. Neither them nor Grendel had noticed each other, but his stepping on branches and the screaming of humans was causing quite a racket. And now they were looking at him.
They started growling, yellow fangs on gore-stained snouts, grayish hair rising on hunched backs. One of them, probably the leader, had its piercing orange eyes locked on Grendel. The squamataur bared his teeth in return, while cursing himself. Not here, not now. He should have been alert. Idiot, idiot. He was bigger, for sure, but they were many. And he knew too well what those claws did. Bad, very bad. He had to back away, get out before it got worse! But the beasts would go after his meal too…he couldn’t afford to lose it. This was really going to suck.
Tension was in the air. The wolves howled, snarled, stepped forward to jump back again, barked ferociously. Grendel on his part hissed, yelled, roared, rose on his rear limbs to appear even larger, cracked his tail like a whip, all the while keeping the shaking wagon at a distance. No one dared to attack. This was his chance, he mused. With utmost caution, never taking his sight away from the pack of beasts, he began to step back, one claw at a time, no rushing movements. Still snarling menacingly at them, but retreating regardless, his back facing the forest.
He didn’t hear the fourth beast coming at him from behind, tackling his human half and making him tumble. The rest of the pack jumped in as well
It could only be described as a frenzied flurry. There were roars and screams of pain, tearing of flesh, pounding of fists. Bodies hitting the ground only to get back up, foaming jaws closing on limbs with all their might. Clawed fingers slashing on matted fur, punches straight to the skull, festering teeth ripping flesh, tail swinging and sending bodies flying. It was intense, it was bloody, it was brutal, and it never seemed to stop.
But eventually, it did. The beasts fled towards the distance, howling their retreat, blood and bruises and broken fangs clearly visible in their bodies. One of them was limping even. They were deadly hunters indeed, but so much to they had to learn still.
And Grendel wasn’t any better. Harshly he panted as he watched them go. Claw marks and scars all over his flesh, scaly or not. Blood mingled with his saliva and painted it an even darker red as it sloppily poured from his exhausted jaws. His right arm had a terrible bite on it, bits of snapped bone exposed. Bruises and contusions peppered his human part. He slowly stood up, and pain gained hold of him. He had a lot of toxins in his body.
No. Get up, you can’t stay here. No pain. The soil will heal it. It always heals. Get up, you idiot, get up, get up.
He winced in pain as he regained his footing. Truly, or so he thought, this is what he got for being so careless. Still that was close, far too close. His breathing gradually returned to normal, his heart slowed down. Muscles ached for rest. And his stomach was rumbling. A snack right now would be nice…
A snack….
His snacks!!
The humans!! The wagon!! Where is the wagon????
He looked all over the place. They couldn’t have taken it away, couldn’t they?? He would have noticed!! Panic was quickly grabbing a hold on him. After all this crap, how could this happen??
Quickly he turned around, and he saw the wagon on the edge of the shrubbery, partially broken. No sign of the humans whatsoever. Grendel’s jaw dropped
“No…” he actually muttered “No no no no no!!” He rushed back to the forest as fast as he could, clutching his wounded arm, limping and dragging himself through the vegetation, searching under every shrub, every rock, all the while being consumed by utter desperation and fatigue. “Where are you??? WHERE ARE YOU???”
“Burp!”
The squamataur raised his head, and his expression only got worse. A certain naga, her blonde hair shining under the shafts of sunlight, was tapping her bloated stomach, licking her lips with an innocently blissful expression
“Hmmmm, I’m so happy!” She squealed “Who’d thought there would be so many yummy humans here? This must be my lucky day!”
“HEY!!!!”
She turned her head, blue-ish eyes staring confusedly, but then couldn’t help but recoil at the wounded, towering behemoth staring down at her, boiling with anger
“Oh, hi! Um…you want something?”
“THAT. WAS. MY. FOOD!! MINE!!!!!”
“Uh, what? Oh!” She giggled, slowly backing away “Well, uh, sorry, I was hungry, you know? So, um, I think I’m going now, okay? See you!” And before Grendel could react, she was already slithering away, rather quickly at that
“NO, STOP RIGHT THERE!!!!” Grendel yelled, truly furious now, reaching out to catch her and almost toppling over as he did “GIVE ME BACK MY FOOD!!!! GIVE IT BACK!!!! GIVE IT BAAAACK!!!!!”
But as much as he tried, he was in too much pain to keep up the pace, and the naga was soon far away from him, getting lost in the ever-present green. And Grendel could only watch, that mixture of disbelief and powerless rage refusing to leave his face.
He let out a low roar in frustration, and punched hard the tree closest to him, tearing off a large chunk of loose bark with it. Another pause, and he lowered his head and turned away, dragging himself back to the meadow. The vegetation he trampled was left with bloody smears as they brushed his wounds.
For such is the rule in Felarya. Life is a harsh mistress here
Subject: Troublesome 
Wed Sep 22, 2010 3:38 pm
Good job on expressing his frustration! I felt quite sorry for him.
