Rain drizzled on the steamy jungle. The lush evergreen leaves filtered light into fine beams, throwing a dappled pattern in the gloom below the great trees. Small herds of duikers scattered here and there browsed for leaves and soft flowers. A lone Glouteaux stood dumbly on the undergrowth, only sometimes reaching down and pecking at something that caught its interest. Bugle lizards converged under thick bushes, indulging on their beloved berries. Cautious silence reigned over the whole scene, only broken by the sound of raindrops and occasional distant calls.
The lizards noticed it first. Great footsteps shaking the smaller trees in the distance. Deep, rumbling breaths coming from cavernous lungs. Immediately their loud honking filled the air, and the peace gave way to all-out panic. The duikers leaped and bounded towards the dark greenery, calling to each other as they go in attempts to keep the herds united. The lizards scrambled beneath the thickets, pushing through the tough plants in their escape.
Only the Glouteaux remained, watching the other creatures flee. And when its dulled senses finally noticed something was amiss, an enormous claw squashed it flat.
Grendel emerged from the woods, humming this faint tune while lumbering his way through the shadows. The sunlight patterns plied upon him, a stream of globules alternating between hard black scales and soft dirty skin. A cloud of plump hairy flies buzzed around him, sipping from open sores and dried gore, scattering every time he swatted at them only to quickly return. The large tail swayed from side to side, sometimes hitting the trees as Grendel went and making leaves and fruit or even small animals drop from the branches at times. His purple eyes scanned the jungle gloom with unease, squinting whenever he turned his head to the leaf-choked sky.
A terrifying image he made indeed, but those animals needed not have troubled. The squamataur was simply passing by, not feeling even particularly hungry at the time. Watching the last stragglers flee, however, always amused him somewhat; they certainly knew their place. Even the Glouteaux he stepped on had been ignored, the splattered pulp that remained left to the Nexocula that so eagerly swarmed it.
Eventually a familiar glassy gleam caught Grendel’s attention. It was a lake, or at least a portion of it. A fallen tree had partially separated his area from the main “body”, and as such most of that pond had gone stagnant and clogged with water plants. Regardless, it seemed good enough to drink. Lowering himself carefully, Grendel reached with both hands at the clearest part of the pond and started drinking. The taste was a bit muddy, but his thirst was sated either way.
Only a moment had passed, and the squamataur suddenly turned around. What…what was that sound just now? Low and deep and humming and burbling and rattling it was. So brief, so sudden, but Grendel was certain he had heard it. Was something stalking him? What could it be?
Something black and furry leaped from one tree to another, and climbed out of sight to the lush branches. Ah….false alarm. Grendel sighed in small relief then turned back to the pond. This was happening all too often lately. Last thing he needed was to lose it now…
He didn’t dwell too long on that, for he spotted a long dead fish in a corner of the pond, tangled up in some weeds. Now that was enticing! It really had been a while since he had last eaten fish, why would he waste this chance? Once again he reached down to the water, smiling to himself
Something hit his hand hard against the log
“AAAAARRRRGHHHH!!!!”
The squamataur’s roar of pain echoed through the shadowy forest, sending frightened birds in all directions. His hand!!! Something long and sharp had pierced it with such force it was practically nailed to the tough bark. He writhed and stomped and thrashed and pulled and punched and growled and yelled and cursed and hissed. But it wouldn’t do, he was stuck! Any movement he made only made it hurt even more, and the dark blood would only pour from the wound faster than before. Grendel gritted his teeth, struggled with his one free hand to remove such a cursed trinket.
He had seen these things before. The humans, the nekos, the elves, they used them “har-poons”. He was sure they did! But he had never seen har-poons this big! And what’s more, who dared to do this to Him?? WHO had the GUTS???
Wait….that sound! It’s that sound again!!!
With his mind struggling to ignore the pain, Grendel turned his head at the gloomy greenery again, and he saw it. Floating in front of him there was a composite figure, much smaller than him, roaring that strange noise without cease.
No, it wasn’t composite. What he assumed to be a tauric half was instead this strange vehicle, light and sleek in shape, loaded with what seemed to be large and heavy bags. And sitting on it there was an inu. Dark blue hair, ragged clothes, holding this large tube-thing with more of those big “har-poons”. Wretched food-ling, Grendel thought. It was looking at him. Long ears were raised, all attention. Oh how he wanted to crush that face….
That face….
….No….
No….no no no….the eyes…
Those eyes….they…
Scarlet….Scarlet eyes…
Her…her eyes….
N-not possible…
“I’ve found you”
He had spoken. His voice was soft, and yet somewhat grumbling, like oil on naga hide. Grendel could only watch him, wide-eyed, the pain all but forgotten in favour of complete surprise….and fear…..
“Yes, we finally meet” he continued “the Lone Black Wolf…..the Ravenous Demon….the Outlaw……Grendel….”
The squamataur swallowed hard, looking as if he was going to step back. Then his face changed again. Fangs showed and gritted in a threatening snarl. Despite the pain, despite the trapped hand, he stood up and stomped forward, defiantly
“…So I am called. But…who are you…” he growled
The inu didn’t seem to react at that answer, still staring at Grendel with those horrible, horrible eyes. But then he raised that spear-tube, aiming it at the squamataur in an equally threatening gesture
“The name is Beo Wulf, monster. And for what you’ve done…” he made this quick jerk of his hand, and the harpoon device clicked “…I will take your head.”
Subject: Revenge - 2 
Sat Dec 11, 2010 4:09 pm
