I mull it over. It's a solid plan. "Alright, let's move out." I gesture forward, and he follows.
We walk in silence for a while. The only sounds are the crunching of sand beneath our feet and the occasional rustle of leaves. The tension of our earlier conversation lingers, but it's manageable.
My mind wanders, and boredom sets in.
An idea strikes me, and I decide to branch out with my insults. Experiment a little.
I try to sayprick, testing the Drakonid translation. It comes out aspoking cock.
Drasuk rumbles with amusement, which blends with the crunching sounds of our feet. "I would, but you refuse to tell me where."
I groan, rolling my eyes. "How is that anything like the same? It's an insult, not a description. Whoever made this translation program fornicated it up."
He starts to reply, but his words die in his throat. His body tenses, and he stops dead in his tracks. I follow his gaze, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up.
A thunderous sound erupts from the desert sand, and something huge bursts out with force, spraying hot sand everywhere. I barely manage to dodge to the side, instinctively doubling back to Drasuk, my gun raised, curses tumbling out of my lips.
The creature before us is a big, nasty thing with six legs and thick, rough brown skin marked with ovals. It raises on its front legs like a caterpillar, its skin thick and mottled everywhere except along its back and tail, which is covered in long, spiked white hair. Its many eyes glisten ominously, and it's even bigger than Drasuk's beefy nine-foot frame.
The creature speaks, its voice a guttural growl. "You look delicious," it says, its words translated perfectly by whatever changes the slimes made to me.
I swallow hard, trying to speak its language, which sends the usual spike of pain down my throat. "We are not food," I say, the words feeling strange on my tongue.
The creature doesn't respond, its eyes continuing to rove over us like we are a tasty treat.
"Don't bother with that," Drasuk hisses out. "Prepare for a fight."
We stand there in a tense standoff, the air thick with anticipation. My heart pounds in my chest, and my grip tightens on my gun, not wanting to be the first to attack just in case this can be settled without violence. Drasuk's claws flex, his body coiled like a spring ready to pounce.
The creature growls again as it sweeps its gaze over us, hunger clear in its gaze.
The creature's growl sends a shiver down my spine. Its many eyes lock onto us with an unnerving interest. Drasuk and I stand our ground.
It makes me wish I had a better knife, dammit. Not to mention a better gun.
My heart pounds in my ears, adrenaline coursing through my veins as I mentally catalogue how to reach other weapons, ready for whatever comes next.
With a blood-curdling half hiss, half screech, the creature closes in on us, shattering any hope for a peaceful alternative, its movements surprisingly swift for something so massive.
I aim and squeeze the trigger, the gun's report echoing through the forest. The bullet strikes the creature's hide, but it barely flinches.
Its rough skin must be tougher than it looks. Just like Drasuk. Ridiculous and fucking unfair.
With a sudden flick of the end of its long body, the creature whips me away like a rag doll. Pain explodes in my side as I'm sent flying through the air.
I hit the ground hard, skidding across the rough terrain before slamming into the base of a tree. My head spins, and for a moment, I can't breathe.
The world is a blur of pain and disorientation.
An angry bellow from Drasuk cuts through the haze. I struggle to push myself up, my vision swimming. I can barely make out Drasuk grappling with the creature, its massive form towering over him. The thing has its tail wrapped around his throat, lifting him off the ground. He claws at it, but it looks like he is barely patting the thing.
It doesn't match anything I thought I knew about him. He's just letting it strangle him.
I force myself to my feet, my vision clearing as I stumble forward. The creature is focused on Drasuk, giving me a chance to act. I raise my gun again, my hands shaking, and fire. The bullet strikes one of its many eyes, and it howls in pain, its grip on Drasuk loosening.
I run toward them, my legs feeling like heavy weights. My vision blurs again, but I blink it away, focusing on what's in front of me. Drasuk manages to break free, gasping for breath.
He just stands there, muscles tense, like he is having some sort of internal battle.
