The air grew heavy, thick with the scent of pine and an underlying musk of primal power. Henry was still frozen on the spot, his legs refusing to move.
The beast took another deliberate step forward. Each immense pawfall was silent, yet felt like a tremor in the very earth beneath Henry's useless feet. It moved with the terrifying grace of a predator that knew its prey was trapped, savouring the moment. It was clearly headed towards Henry, its eyes fixed on his paralyzed form.
Henry's heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence, threatening to explode from his chest. Panic washed over him, rendering his muscles rigid. He wanted to run, to scream, to burrow into the earth, but his legs, heavy as lead, refused to obey.
