It was round and squat, about the size of a large canine, but it was covered in stiff, white quills that flared outward like a crown. Worse, its eyes glowed a sickly yellow—green, and along its back were ridges that looked like serrated blades.
It smelled wrong too–sickly sweet and half—rotten. Oh yes–it was a threat. His mind went into primitive protective mode at once.
Danger. Near. Her.
No!
Brux didn’t think—he acted. He bounded forward, putting himself between Kiera and the threat in a single leap, shoulders lowered, teeth bared–ready to take the first strike meant for her. His paws hit the spongy ground, and the silver—threaded plants gave under his weight as he charged.
Behind him, he heard Kiera’s voice, sounding surprisingly calm.
“Hey—wait a minute!” she called.
But Brux was already moving. His only thought was protect her, protect her, protect her! Because she was his. His mate. His woman. The one who had pulled him out of a cage and promised him a home.
He aimed himself at the creature, expecting it to lunge.
Instead, it puffed up.
With a loud WHUMPF, the spiny thing expanded, doubling in size in an instant. Its quills spread outward, and its ridges rose, making it look even more terrifying—like a living land mine. It hissed again, and its eyes flared brighter.
Brux skidded to a stop so hard his claws dug into the ground cover.
Goddess—what is that?
For a second, he was sure it was about to explode or spit poison or fling needles into Kiera’s soft skin. He snapped at it—more warning than bite—and the creature immediately puffed even more, wobbling on its stubby legs as if offended. But it didn’t change any more or attack–it just sat there, inflated and hissing.
Confusion flickered through Brux’s mind. His nose twitched. What was this thing? What were its intentions? Why was it just sitting there? Why–?
Suddenly the thing jumped out of the grass, launching itself at Kiera.
With a growl, Brux dived at it…only to see it vanish in a puff of white powder.
“No, don’t! Watch out!” he heard Kiera shout behind him.
But it was too late–his paws came straight down in the middle of what he thought was just another patch of meadow…only the “meadow” vanished beneath him.
There was no time to recover. Brux yelped—an undignified, startled sound that ripped out of his throat before he could stop it—and then he plunged straight down into cold, slick water.
Purple and silver algae slapped against his face and neck like wet cloth. It clung to him instantly, coating his fur in a heavy, slimy layer that felt wrong—thick, cold, and horribly sticky.
He kicked and scrambled, flailing like an inexperienced pup, and burst back up, coughing and sputtering as he fought his way out of the hidden pool. He hauled himself out, dripping and shocked, his legs wobbling as he stood on the edge of the strange, mini—lake, staring down at it mistrustfully.
As he looked, he saw what he should have noted before–there was a purple and silver algae layer floating on top of the water which had camouflaged it perfectly. The surface of it looked exactly like the surrounding plants—only darker and more saturated.
“Oh my God–just look at you!”
Kiera’s voice cut through his confusion, and he looked up to see her shaking her head. For a heartbeat, he feared she would be angry—he had embarrassed himself, made a mess, probably scared her.
But then her lips twitched…her eyes widened with disbelief…and she burst out laughing.
“Don’t you look a mess?” she exclaimed, when she finished. “Those little holes are what I call ‘camo—lakes,’ because the algae camouflages them and you don’t notice until you step right in. Oh, and that big scary puff—ball that led you into it was a fooster. Completely harmless, by the way–they just act like that if they think someone is going to step on them.”
Brux liked that she was talking to him like he was a person and not just her new pet, but he had other things on his mind at the moment–like staring down at his own body in horrified disbelief.
He was…purple.
Not just wet…not just muddy…but actually purple and silver streaked, as if someone had painted him with shimmering slime. The algae was matting his thick fur into clumps, making him look ridiculous—like some kind of demented festival mascot. And it felt absolutely horrible.
