So...the one hunting us is...?
“So...the one hunting us is...?”
“A foe we cannot hope to ever defeat,” Seated on a log across from Tyrus, Feylin asked all the questions he could think of. All around them, more of the Morphs, as the hyena called them, were preparing for a move; they had to move to a new location and make sure they didn’t get attacked again. Night had long since fallen, as Feylin heard Tyrus’ words as to what the hell they had to fear out here...what was hunting them. “From what I know, he’s called Nugruc...though his look...it’s rarely seen. He hunts from a distance, though a few Morphs have reported that he can sometimes show up himself...but it’s often rare.” All of this worried him, as the feline being dined on some herbs and greens contained in a wooden bowl; distasteful, but it was edible, at least. With the time spent working with this...group, he managed to garner himself some clothing too; the plant fiber top and loincloth did well to hide his new...genitals, and to remove some worries...he wasn’t ignorant to some of the leers some of the other Morphs gave him with this new body and he didn’t like it one bit.
“How bad does it get?”
“Horrid...when he can’t track us himself, he sends his beasts to do so. Twisted monsters that prowl in the dark, but driven away from light. It’s why we always maintain torches and keep our spears and obsidian swords ready...if they get too close, we drive them away, before they betray our location to that monster.”
“And...how do we survive this? Survive this entire situation?”
“Some of the older Morphs have an idea...there’s a location at the far end of this locale...at the far end of this forest, there’s a place we can flee. Somewhere the hunter refuses to prowl. If we can keep on our path, we can prevent him from cutting us off, and hunting us all down.” At least there was a light at the end of the tunnel...a way to get out of the situation, and to escape the Grounds.
...a thought occurred to Feylin, that soon became words spoken on impulse.
“Is there a way to reverse what happened to us? To fix us, and return us to normal?” That, seemed to catch Tyrus off guard; the hyena-headed male letting out a low, deep sigh, before he parted his maw to speak.
Just in time to watch a Morph nearby slump to the ground; head blown apart like an overripe melon.
Written by AGhostInTheMachine on 14 September 2018