Chapter 11: Risk Aversion
Chapter 11: Risk Aversion
~~[926 Words]~~
"He's so—Big—!"
Yuren's jaw shook. He couldn't move his feet.
The creature screeched—a sound so sharp he almost heard it burst just above his head, wild and furious. One bite, and that would be it. He'd be gone. The roar blasted through the dense canopy, forcing every animal to scatter. Hot, foul breath slammed into him, knocking the air from his lungs, and left his whole body slick with spit and filth. It felt like a hurricane, except the stench was worse than any storm. God, the smell. He dug his fingernails into his palm, just to stay upright.
And fear snapped him out of it. His legs broke free.
He ran.
He left his soul back with the beast, didn't even care which way he ran, and didn't dare look back. Sweat poured off him. His companion was already a blur ahead.
"Amaya, wait!"
His legs were just a blur—he chased after her, going as fast as panic could carry him, anything to get away from that monster.
His whole body screamed: Make noise. Yell. Do anything.
"Get back! I'm not food! Stop chasing me—please—go chew on something else! Nobody's here for you—just leave us alone! What's your problem? I didn't do a thing to you!"
But the only reply was a rumbling bellow, low and furious, rattling his bones.
"Unbelievable. I thought that was Grandpa. Just a Wargroat. Of course. Please. Please tell me this isn't part of the test. Grandpa, where are you? I'm done. I quit."
He risked a glance behind.
Still there. Screaming even louder. Yuren's teeth clacked together from the sound.
"What is with this thing? Why won't it give up?"
One more look—his skin tingled; his heart dropped.
"I'm dead. It's closing in—what do I do?"
This time he screamed for real, gulping air, legs burning.
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"Help—HELP! Somebody knock me out!"
Silence. Nothing. The monkeys overhead were too busy screeching, eyes huge, more terrified than he was.
"Amaya—*please*!"
He jabbed his way through branches, tripped over roots, and tore past weeds, all the while thrashing through the undergrowth. Up ahead—Amaya squeezed through a hole in a fallen tree. He dived after her, scraping across spongy wood.
Then, quiet. Just the two of them, both gasping. Yuren's heart hammered so loud it drowned out everything else.
Amaya perched on his head, talons gripping the mess of his hair, jittery but silent.
Darkness. A thin slice of light from the hollow's opening.
They both froze and listened.
Big, slow footsteps thudded by, shaking the ground. He pressed against the dirt, sweat trickling down his face. The rotten wood dug into him, but he didn't dare move.
Then—everything pitched sideways.
The shelter whipped around, tossing him and Amaya like dice in a cup. Chunks of wood fell everywhere. The beast had found them, rolling the hollow like a toy.
Yuren hit the earth hard, barely managing not to squash Amaya.
Thank god that bird was quick.
He spat out wet splinters, choking on the taste of rot. The hollow was in shreds.
Silence. He tried to breathe. "Is it gone? Did it stop?"
A fragile calm—then a crawling feeling across his back.
He twisted around, heart thumping.
A centipede. The size of his arm.
Yuren yelped and scrambled out, dragging Amaya along.
They both exploded from the wreckage, not looking back. Somewhere behind him, another roar shook the trees, but he ignored it.
Of course. Still there. Still chasing.
"Can I please catch a break?! Amaya, slow down—don't leave me! I refuse to be pig food just because I mixed up you and Grandpa!"
He veered left—glancing quickly at the Wargroat.
"Great, it looks starved....ah hah...ah."
He ran harder. The beast was closing in, thumping closer with every stride. He tried zig-zagging, but the brush hid a sudden drop.
He tumbled badly. Limbs flopping, rolling over wet mud, lucky not to hit a rock.
No time to feel pain. He staggered up. Above, the beast roared again, not letting go.
If he stopped, he was finished.
Blood and sweat stung his eyes. His elbow throbbed; his ankle screamed. He limped but didn't stop. Finally, the forest ended.
There was a break in the trees. And Amaya, waiting.
He stopped.
A cliff. One—maybe two—hundred meters down. And a lone tree, shooting up beside him, bigger than any he'd ever seen. Crowning the top was a monster's nest.
For a split second, he almost smiled.
But then—something else. Over there, snagged in a branch, was something green.
The first bandana.
He'd found it.
The beast's pounding steps yanked him back to reality. Fifteen meters. Ten. And he could feel his nerves collapsing.
He edged back. The cliff's loose earth broke under his feet, pebbles falling into nothing.
The beast looked at him with actual hunger in its eyes. Saliva ran from its jaws, blowing in ropes across the ground.
It stopped. Roared—ready. And lunged.
Time snapped. His feet slipped.
And he fell.
His arms scraped over the edge, grabbing for anything. Somehow he caught a clump of grass and hung by his fingertips, air whipping around him.
Not letting go. Not now.
His grip started to fail. One finger… two… three…
He squeezed harder.
The grass snapped.
He fell, for real—screaming soundless words into the wind. The cold sun blinded him.
This was it.
White light. A shock.
Something beat through the air.
Three things fell spinning besides him.
Feathers. White. Clean.