The cave yawned from the hillside like the mouth of some ancient creature. Dark vines draped over its entrance, and faint scratches marred the stone, deep grooves that spoke of claws far larger than any man's hand.
The hunters spread out, cautious now. One nocked an arrow, another lit a torch, the flare of light briefly pushing back the shadows. The glow revealed bloodstains on the rocks—old, dried to black.
Eryn crouched behind a thick root, his breath slow, knife gripped tight. His mind raced. What lives in there? How strong is it? Could I… could I ever fight something like that?
The lead hunter raised a hand, signaling silence. They advanced in a line, torchlight flickering across jagged stone walls. The air grew warmer as they entered, carrying a sour, animal stench. Somewhere deeper in the cave came a sound—a low whimper, soft and broken.
Eryn's eyes narrowed. He edged closer, keeping to the shadows. The hunters rounded a bend, and their torchlight spilled into a wider chamber.
There it was.
A massive beast crouched over a hollow in the stone, its hide dark and ridged like old bark, its jaws wet with saliva. Its eyes glowed faintly, catching the torchlight. Around it lay the remains of past kills—bones gnawed clean, skulls cracked open. And there, near its foreleg, something moved—a smaller shape, mewling softly. A cub.
Eryn's breath caught. Even this monster… even this thing had a child.
One of the hunters whispered, "Saints preserve us…"Another hissed, "Quiet. Shoot it now before it moves."
The twang of a bowstring broke the tense silence.
The arrow struck the beast's shoulder, and its roar shook the cave, a sound so deep and furious that even Eryn flattened against the stone in terror. The hunters charged, torches flaring, blades flashing in the dark.
Eryn watched, frozen. Blood sprayed across the cavern floor as the beast swung its massive claws, tearing one man in half. Another screamed, his arm ripped away in a single swipe. The cub wailed, crawling toward the shadows. The torchlight danced wildly, throwing grotesque shapes against the walls.
Eryn gripped his knife tighter. He should run. Any sane person would run. But he stayed, eyes wide, heart pounding, watching every movement—every swing of blade, every lunge of claw. Learn. Learn. Watch how they fight. Watch what it takes to kill.
He ducked as a hunter's body crashed against the wall near him, lifeless eyes staring. His breath came fast and shallow, but he didn't look away. Not this time. Not ever again.