Tornado
The trikon nears Rin, even as she struggles to get away.
We speed up, picking a path over the rocks, gaze raking the trikon for any hint of a vulnerability.
Thick fur, matted into clumps, covers its hide and disguises most of its bulky shape.
What little we can see suggests muscular legs and back, sharp teeth and a double tail.
It’s keeping low to the ground—protecting a soft underbelly?
We risk a glance toward Halley. She’s falling over her own feet in her rush to reach Rin. We speed up but are limited by the terrain and our decision to keep out of the trikon’s main line of sight. If it doesn’t see us coming, we’ll have more of a chance to get a quick kill.
“Come on, Rin,” Halley calls, her voice pitching high. “Just a little farther." Although what Halley expects to do when she reaches Rin, we can’t fathom.
The trikon lunges.
And Halley throws herself forward, pushing Rin aside, shielding the youngling with her body.
“No!” The word tears itself from our throat, full of Eot’s horror and Keelo’s rage. We jump, flinging ourself across the gap. Our claws cut through matted fur, slicing into flesh.
The trikon bellows. Although we can’t have cut deep, not with so much hair in the way. Blood barely coats the razor tips of our claws as we slash again, this time aiming for its head. We collide heavily with its thick neck, desperate to turn it away from Rin and Halley.
Pain lances along our right side, some of its teeth cutting into our arm. Eot’s focus waivers. Keelo screams. And we throw ourselves back into the fight. We can’t back down.
We have too much to lose.