through the door in defence against the funky smell which seemed to surround everything here.
Thump, thump, thump…
The sound of heavy footsteps formed out of the silence, heading towards them, accompanied by a thrashing sound. Like a kid thrashing at weeds with a stick. A large stick.
Tessa’s eyes widened as the ground behind their feet quaked. “God, how big is that?”
“I have no clue but ten to one it ain’t gonna be friendly. Here have these, get behind those rocks,” He handed her the bags he’d been carrying and nodded towards an outcrop just off the path. Large enough to use as cover in case of flying debris, they might even be large enough to conceal her if this went bad. And it was quite likely to go bad. His Kyn instincts were screaming at him, the skin between his shoulder blades crawling, all his senses telling him this wasn’t going to be pretty.
As Tessa scurried to the safety of the rocks Feral stood in the middle of the path, blocking it. He only had his blades on him but that would have to do. Whatever was coming down that path was going to have to get through him before it got to Tessa and the baby.
His jaw clenched, eyes dark with determination, and there was no way he was making that easy!
Feral rolled his neck, easing the big muscles in his shoulders. Moving slowly, with a deliberation that was unique to the big Warrior, he reached into the small of his back. His fingers slid into the leather wrapped grips of his blades, pulling them free with a practised movement.
He settled them more comfortably over his knuckles, eyes on the turn in the path, the light glinting off the lethally sharp blades across the backs of his hands. KDFH the lads at the compound called them. Knuckle Dusters from Hell.
He defended himself and others many times with these. His speed, accuracy and sheer energy made him the equal of Kalen and his twin blades and he could even land a point or two on Marak every now and then.
Thump, thump, thump...
Feral's eyes narrowed as the footsteps got closer. No matter how good and how fast he was, the fact remained that whatever that was, it sounded big. And the blades on his knuckles were looking smaller by the minute. He'd always taken the piss out of Mikal and the others for carrying modern weaponry but right about now he wished like hell he was packing heat!
He rolled his neck again, adrenalin raced through his veins as the footsteps and that odd thrashing noise drew closer and closer, until it was just around the corner.
Then it was there. The huge bulk of ... something filling the turn in the path.
Something straight out of a nightmare.
“Holy... crap,” Feral breathed as he looked up, then looked up some more. It wasn't a creature. It was a damn mountain range!
A mountain range covered in gnarled, wart dotted skin. Skin ingrained with dirt and slime and stretched over a roughly man shaped frame. One that was hunched over like an old man. But it wasn't the strength of an old man that was flailing the massive club it held in its hand about nonchalantly.
“Great, just fucking great,” An Ogre. First it was bloody Pixies and now a damn Ogre!
Feral sighed and re-adjusted his blades again. This was going to really hurt...
“Come on then handsome, let’s dance.”
Tessa headed over to the rocks, ducking behind them as her heart pounded so loudly she thought it was going to burst out her chest. Spud, picking up on her fear, started to fret.
"Shush, shush... its fine. It's all going to be fine," she whispered as she rocked his tiny form in reassurance. She moved slightly, trying to peer over the rocks to see what was happening.
Feral just stood there, studying the blades on his hands so calmly she wanted to scream. He didn't look at all bothered. That had to be a good sign, right? Her eyes flowed down the lines of his large body, noting the tension there. He rolled his neck again, eyes riveted on the turn in the path. She knew as soon as the creature appeared,
Thump, thump, thump…
The sound of heavy footsteps formed out of the silence, heading towards them, accompanied by a thrashing sound. Like a kid thrashing at weeds with a stick. A large stick.
Tessa’s eyes widened as the ground behind their feet quaked. “God, how big is that?”
“I have no clue but ten to one it ain’t gonna be friendly. Here have these, get behind those rocks,” He handed her the bags he’d been carrying and nodded towards an outcrop just off the path. Large enough to use as cover in case of flying debris, they might even be large enough to conceal her if this went bad. And it was quite likely to go bad. His Kyn instincts were screaming at him, the skin between his shoulder blades crawling, all his senses telling him this wasn’t going to be pretty.
As Tessa scurried to the safety of the rocks Feral stood in the middle of the path, blocking it. He only had his blades on him but that would have to do. Whatever was coming down that path was going to have to get through him before it got to Tessa and the baby.
His jaw clenched, eyes dark with determination, and there was no way he was making that easy!
Feral rolled his neck, easing the big muscles in his shoulders. Moving slowly, with a deliberation that was unique to the big Warrior, he reached into the small of his back. His fingers slid into the leather wrapped grips of his blades, pulling them free with a practised movement.
He settled them more comfortably over his knuckles, eyes on the turn in the path, the light glinting off the lethally sharp blades across the backs of his hands. KDFH the lads at the compound called them. Knuckle Dusters from Hell.
He defended himself and others many times with these. His speed, accuracy and sheer energy made him the equal of Kalen and his twin blades and he could even land a point or two on Marak every now and then.
Thump, thump, thump...
Feral's eyes narrowed as the footsteps got closer. No matter how good and how fast he was, the fact remained that whatever that was, it sounded big. And the blades on his knuckles were looking smaller by the minute. He'd always taken the piss out of Mikal and the others for carrying modern weaponry but right about now he wished like hell he was packing heat!
He rolled his neck again, adrenalin raced through his veins as the footsteps and that odd thrashing noise drew closer and closer, until it was just around the corner.
Then it was there. The huge bulk of ... something filling the turn in the path.
Something straight out of a nightmare.
“Holy... crap,” Feral breathed as he looked up, then looked up some more. It wasn't a creature. It was a damn mountain range!
A mountain range covered in gnarled, wart dotted skin. Skin ingrained with dirt and slime and stretched over a roughly man shaped frame. One that was hunched over like an old man. But it wasn't the strength of an old man that was flailing the massive club it held in its hand about nonchalantly.
“Great, just fucking great,” An Ogre. First it was bloody Pixies and now a damn Ogre!
Feral sighed and re-adjusted his blades again. This was going to really hurt...
“Come on then handsome, let’s dance.”
Tessa headed over to the rocks, ducking behind them as her heart pounded so loudly she thought it was going to burst out her chest. Spud, picking up on her fear, started to fret.
"Shush, shush... its fine. It's all going to be fine," she whispered as she rocked his tiny form in reassurance. She moved slightly, trying to peer over the rocks to see what was happening.
Feral just stood there, studying the blades on his hands so calmly she wanted to scream. He didn't look at all bothered. That had to be a good sign, right? Her eyes flowed down the lines of his large body, noting the tension there. He rolled his neck again, eyes riveted on the turn in the path. She knew as soon as the creature appeared,
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