He squinted against the harsh sunlight, shielding his eyes with one hand as he scanned the uneven terrain. The ground beneath him was cracked in places, soft in others, and the sparse bushes offered little respite from the heat. The occasional tree rose here and there like an afterthought of a forest long gone, their shadows too small and too fleeting to provide true cover.
A young man barely in his twenties along with a taccarox that padded quietly at his side, all four ears twitching at every distant sound. Even in the open, she moved with a kind of alert precision, sniffing the air and pausing when a faint rustle came from the dry grass.
His boots sank slightly into the earth as he walked, each step feeling heavier under the oppressive sun. The savannah stretched endlessly before him, a mix of light brown soil and pale blue grass, dotted with clusters of thorny bushes. He could see no sign of settlement, just the quiet hum of insects and the occasional call of a distant bird of prey.
He wiped sweat from his brow and muttered under his breath, "The world's bigger than I thought."
Niri gave a soft meow, rubbing against his leg as if to remind him she was still there. They continued till it got dark, and made camp by a tree.
They awoke with the ground trembling beneath their feet feet, a low, rolling vibration that grew steadily louder. Dust and dry grass swirled into the air as a thunderous roar echoed across the savannah. He froze for a heartbeat, heart hammering, before his eyes caught the motion: a massive stampede of tesnochs.
They were enormous, creatures, each standing nearly two meters at the shoulder. Their bodies were muscular with an elongated frame, covered in coarse, mottled yellow fur streaked with grey. Thick, curved horns jutted from their heads, sharp enough to pierce through bone, while their clawed hooves struck the ground like rolling boulders. Eyes grey and wide, they stamped and snorted, nostrils flaring as they surged forward with relentless momentum. Dust and debris kicked up around them, forming a moving wall of earth and muscle that seemed impossible to stop.
Faelan's stomach lurched. He grabbed Niri with both hands, pressing her against his chest as her three tails whipped nervously behind her. The ground shook with each pounding step of the tesnochs, and the air vibrated with their collective bellowing.
"Move! Now!" he thought to himself, adrenaline surging.
He sprinted toward the nearest cluster of thorny bushes, weaving around patches of dry grass and low shrubs, trying to put any obstacle he could between himself and the unstoppable stampede. Niri hissed and squirmed, claws lightly digging into his arms, but Faelan barely noticed—every ounce of focus was on staying ahead of the thundering wall of destruction that bore down behind them.
The tesnochs' momentum was terrifying, a reminder that even in this open, seemingly empty land, the world could crush him in an instant. Dust stung his eyes, sweat burned, but he ran, his mind laser-focused on one thing: survival.
The tesnochs thundered past, not in pursuit of Faelan, but in blind terror. Dust and debris swirled around them as their elongated legs carried them in frantic, uneven strides. Their bony ridges quivered, fur bristled along their spines, and their clawed hooves tore through the earth with a frenzied rhythm, the herd's collective panic vibrating through the savannah like a living drum.
At the lead, their pale, grey eyes darted wildly, nostrils flaring, ears pinned back, every muscle taut with fear. Something large and dangerous was behind them, and Faelan could feel it before he saw it: a predator unlike any he'd ever encountered.
A shadow leapt across the open plain, a flash of sleek muscle and rippling power. The creature was roughly 2 meters tall. Its elongated, feline body rippled with sinewy strength, covered in short, obsidian-black fur streaked with muted crimson patterns that shifted subtly with its movements. Its head was narrow, angular, with four slitted eyes—two forward, two on the sides—giving it a terrifying, near-360-degree awareness. Long, whip-like tendrils sprouted from its shoulders, twitching in the air as if feeling for movement. Its claws were hooked and curved like sickles, and its tail ended in a bony, spiked club that lashed behind it as it ran.
The predator's roar—or what passed for one—was low, guttural, and vibrating, echoing across the savannah. The herd's panic intensified, the stampede spreading wider, the air thick with dust and terror.
He ducked behind a low bush, heart hammering, gripping Niri tightly as the predator barreled past the fleeing herd. Its eyes flicked over the savannah, scanning, hunting—but for now, it seemed uninterested in him. Still, every instinct in him screamed that he wasn't safe.
He pressed himself lower, feeling the ground tremble under the panicked herd, and whispered to Niri, "Just… let's stay out of its way."
The predator's shadow disappeared over a distant rise, with the creature gone he pushed himself to keep moving, boots pounding against the uneven savannah as Niri clung tightly to his chest. The echoes of the stampede still vibrated through the earth, sending shivers up his spine. He knew the herd could change direction at any moment, or something else could be lurking nearby.
After a some time the terrain began to shift subtly, the grass thinning and giving way to cracked, reddish soil. Small clusters of stone and scrub appeared, forming natural pathways that Faelan could use to stay out of sight from predators—or curious eyes. Every step he took, he scanned the horizon, watching for movement, listening for the faintest sound of wheels, voices, or smoke.
Hours passed under the relentless sun, his shirt sticking to his back, sweat stinging his eyes. Niri mewed softly, pressing against him, her tails flicking nervously. Faelan felt the weight of her, the persistent need to keep her safe pushing him forward with renewed urgency.
Then, in the distance, he saw it: a faint wisp of smoke rising against the pale blue sky. It was subtle, almost as if the wind itself was hiding it, but Faelan's pulse quickened. Civilization. Signs of people. Not just scattered ruins or abandoned outposts like he'd glimpsed before, but something that suggested life—and possibly safety—was still out there.
He adjusted Niri on his shoulder and picked up his pace, weaving between the sparse rocks and bushes, following the faint trail of smoke. Each step brought him closer, the promise of shelter and the unknown ahead fueling a cautious hope.
Even as the sun burned overhead, the savannah no longer felt entirely empty