Annoying

The great river flowed with hissing gurgles, splashing against the gnawed rock of the gully and from under the tangled roots of ancient trees. If one followed the stream, its rambunctious passing would grow quieter and gentler, until it finally slipped into the majestic Lake of Arrows, its crystalline waters lapping softly on the pale rock. The birds held dominion of the skies with raucous chatters, and below them many more creatures hunted and browsed and swam and played, in the shallows and the depths, enjoying in their own way what the glittering benefactor provided.

Grendel was there as well, hidden beneath the shadow of an overhang, screened by the interwoven arches of yet another tree. It was hunger that led him to the lake; no surprise, predators were but slaves to the lure of life-sustaining meat. Regardless, though he could have gone after the titanic browsers before him, the great squamataur would not step to the cool sunlight. The herbivores weren't close enough for a convincing assault, and there was little cover there in the open. Not to mention he would have to swim, and that would give the would-be prey precious seconds to flee. Not worth it.

Besides, what he craved today was more exotic.

For a long while he waited, the sparkling sunlight on the water casting ripples on his face and arms, and then his eyes focused suddenly on a movement not far below the surface. A large catfish, smooth skin a brownish-blue, was swimming in from the deeper bottom, whisking its flat tail back and forth with an ease surprising for its bloated bulk. Grendel licked his lips reflexively. At last something shows up with the right size!

And he has the right trick for this. With no time to waste he dropped a little piece of meat he had saved into the water, quietly enough to not attract attention to himself. Then, grinning with expectation, he watched the catfish come closer and closer, gaping dumbly towards the morsel.

His hand cleaved the water noisily, all the stealth gone in an eye blink. Fingers clamped on the wriggling, slippery body and nails dug in, pinning it down so it wouldn't escape. Then with another reflex jerk Grendel yanked the fish from the water, onto the grassy bank under the overhang. A swift blow and it was dead.

The joy of finally getting a meal briefly overtook Grendel, and as he eased himself from his hiding place he considered waiting for more. But the ruckus he made would keep the fish away for a while, and the ones that still remained in the area were of the tiny, undesirable kind. He better not be greedy, and conform to what he has. He'll think about that later.

He wasn't the only one with a taste for fish. The moment he turned back to his catch there was the figure of a young mantoid, not much bigger than one of his forelegs, her dirty green exoskeleton and unkempt hair tough to distinguish from the grass under the shadow. She was seemingly trying to drag the catfish away with her thin, scythed appendages, and stopped to look at Grendel just at the same time as him, little blue eyes open wide in surprise.



And it took a ferocious snarl from Grendel for her to flee, vanishing in the undergrowth before the much larger predator could lunge at her. He stood there with the catch between his claws, a bubbling growl from his throat as he angrily looked all over the place. Rotten pests….this is why you couldn't let your guard down.

He surveyed the vegetation around him one last time before picking the catfish with both hands and start devouring it. It was juicy and flaky, just like he liked them. Sometimes he'd feel the prick of sharp fish bones on his lips and gums, but he'd either spit them out or simply force them down along with the meat. He kept eyeing his hiding spot between bites, just in case any more scavengers showed up.

What's this, he was starting to feel an itch in his back. Brief and sudden at first, but then intense, annoying, like something was clawing at his skin. Grendel had to twist around in place to reach it, and even then he had to turn his head just to be sure. What a chore…

Wait, what if…?

He looked back at the fish. And there was the mantoid again, happily taking nibbles out of the torn meat while perched in his right hand

"GRAAAAAH!!!"

This time she couldn't get away. The squamataur grabbed the shocked insect-taur with his left hand, and letting out another roar of fury he flung her to the thick forest like she was a stone. There was a light thud in the distance, followed by the mantoid's pained whimpering. Grendel snorted in seething annoyance, and shoved the rest of the fish inside his mouth. Served her right, the little prick.

It was then he noticed the many creaking, scuttling noises.

It was only then he looked up and saw the dozens and dozens of young mantoids cluttered in those branching roots, looking down at him with little angry faces.

And soon the forest echoed to a different sound altogether for the squamataur stormed through, roaring and yelling in pain, crashing and stomping everything in the way as the raging swarm set upon him, clawing and biting, poking his eyes, pulling his hair, sliced his flesh, cursed and ranted with high-pitched voices.

And the animals would flee at this terrifying apparition, a stampeding chaos like few had seen before.

And he ran and ran and ran, the tiny legion never ceasing in their torment

Until a tree branch that didn't quite break swung back, swatting the horde in a matter of seconds. Before they could regroup Grendel's thick tail came smashing down on them, followed by his stomping claws.

In no time they had scattered, screeching in terror through the cover of the forest shrubbery. The great squamataur was alone again, covered in sweat and multitude of scratches, panting in exhaustion but triumphant. He let out a deep bellow, as much of triumph as for venting what was left of his rage, and with a satisfied smirk he started to move.

He didn't notice the slope.

The earth-shaking impact of his rolling fall saw him surrounded by white wading birds, squawking madly as they took off to the skies in flurries of feathery activity. From the upside-down view he was left on he noticed a translucent, ochre slimoid reaching out to the skies, gelatinous appendages trying in vain to catch the fleeing birds

Its lumpy head turned at Grendel with a noticeable frown; seems he had ruined its lunch. Another of its pseudopods ripped a handful of wiry plants and tossed it at the squamataur's face. Then it was slithering away, shuddering in visible annoyance.

Grendel sighed.