A stick snapped somewhere out in the freezing darkness.
Bif Mucarnar's body stiffened in place where he was seated in front of a small campfire. His lips quirked under his rough wool hood. He forced himself to relax, one hand creeping towards his bow, the other reaching for an arrow. He was the hunter here.
His plan was working. Perhaps he was close to his quarry. Perhaps he would be able to put to rest the beast that had stalked the cattle of village Tuin this night. His spirits rose as he imagined the hero's welcome he'd receive. Perhaps even that beautiful redhead who looked suggestively at him would give him a better welcome.
He'd tracked the creature all day, assuming it was a panther of sorts. He'd dismissed out of hand the descriptions of the villagers. They were an uneducated and superstitious lot and prone to exaggeration. And while it was his duty as a ranger to help rid them of any animal that got too comfortable eating their livestock, a larger-than-life black panther that disappeared from one place to reappear in another was a bit much, even for him.
The bow was knocked and ready when he heard it. The soft crunch of feet over newly fallen snow. He let out a silent breath which puffed out into the chill in front of him. The padded feet of a panther, stalking, staying just out of the light, it was barely a noise, the softest of sounds but a sign to those who knew what to listen for.
Bif turned, the movement faster than a blink of an eye, the arrow knocked and ready as he faced down his quarry, the creature that taunted the villagers of Tuin.
Or so he thought.
There was nothing beyond the glow of his fire and only blackness beyond that. He paused listening, perhaps he'd misheard. A quick glance down only confirmed what his ears had told him. There were tracks in the snow, the paws of a feline, much larger than any creature he was used to tracking.
His heart began to thud, and his grip tightened on his bow.
The crunching started up again. This time from the opposite side of the fire just outside the ring of light.
Bif spun toward the sound and waited as he drew the string taut. The padding grew closer and just as it should have broken from the darkness into the light of his fire, they stopped. This time he detected an audible swoosh in the darkness.
Despite the cold, a beadlet of sweat appeared on his forehead. The crunching started up again, only this time it was once again behind him.
It was taunting him.
He turned swiftly, expecting to see a panther, and yet again there was nothing. More tracks, this time closer in the snow from a slightly different angle. He took a step back towards the fire determined to keep as much light between it and himself as he could. He could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest and for a brief moment wondered if the creature could hear it too.
"Come on, come on," he whispered towards the last place he'd heard the creature move. "Here kitty, kitty--"
Pain shot through his shoulder as he was slammed to the ground. He gasped as he was hoisted into the air, his bow snapped neatly in half and plucked from his fingers as a scream erupted from his throat.
The pain in his shoulder only intensified and he glanced at it, discovering to his horror a black fur-covered appendage covered with spikes embedded into his Shoulder. His hand instinctively clawed at it, one hand reaching for the hunting knife he kept in his belt. The black tentacle appendage shook him roughly, before compressing, driving the spikes in further. The arm flopped uselessly at his side.
With his free hand, Bif managed to draw his hunting knife. He lash out at whatever the creature was and the blade connected. The dark flesh split as the blade severed the appendage. He fell to the ground, miraculously landing on his feet, as a yowl split the air around him. He shivered in place trying to cover his ears but with only one working arm, his other ear burst as the otherworldly screams bit into it. The spikes were still lodged in his shoulder, and he knew for a certainty that the arm would never work again. Blood leached freely from the wound, contrasting against his already pale exposed skin and dripping into the snow.
He glanced up at his deadly opponent. The creature resembled a large feline with its face and body. Instead of four legs, the creature sported six, as well as four long tentacles with spikes on the end, one currently lodged in his shoulder.
It appraised him from a safe distance as it surveyed the damaged end, its green eyes glowing with malevolence.
Bif knew he stared at his death. He ran anyway, with the smallest of hope he'd still survive the night. Stumbling through the snow in the direction of Tuin, he kept pushing, his useless arm flopping at his side.
The claws struck first into his backside, he gasped out loud as he was brought down the claws piercing both bone and flesh now.
The creature stayed put unmoving, its breath coming in rasping purs. Once again the spiked tentacle gripped him, this time one digging into each shoulder, the spikes embedding deep into the muscle as he was hoisted into the air. A blood-curling yowl rent the night again.
"Moira, Moira," a woman's voice soothed.
Bif dragged his pain-laden gaze towards the voice. His breath caught and he wheezed, caught between paralyzing fear and agonizing pain. The woman in front of him was a drow, a dark elf, with black skin and hair white as the snow around her. Her armor was dark with lines depicting spider webbing that emphasized her voluptuous figure. Her eyes glowed red. She walked slowly towards him, a whip in one hand, a dagger in the other.
Bif felt his bowels release as he hung in place. The drow wrinkled her nose in disgust.
"Not the ranger we were hoping to catch, Moira, but no matter my pet." She walked past and patted the six-limbed displacer beast on the head. "We will spin another web."
Bif dropped to the ground landing on his ruined back. Fresh blood seeped from his shoulder wounds and he moaned as he stared up at the starlit sky.
"But for now," the drow continued. "Feast my pet, we still have work to do."
Looking towards his leg, Bif's eyes widened in dread and he couldn't hold back the screams as the Moira settled down and sank her teeth into the thickened part of his thigh.
------------------
The yowls were unlike anything Red had in her travels. Red paused and looked back as they echoed across the canyon.
"What is that?" Lem asked, tensing in his saddle.
"I am not sure," Red said, looking back. A memory flashed briefly of the offspring of a six-legged creature, they used to keep at her father's house in Menzoberrazan. "Let's get to Tuin."
