Come Together 》Octavian's Story

Who Let the Hellhounds Out?

Penn's P. O. V.

  I would have to say that, by far, the morning after the cockatrice attack was the worst morning I had ever woken up to. (Which was fair, seeing it was a Monday and all, but still.) No bedhead or burnt toast could ever stand against needing to roll out of a sleeping bag ready to fight monsters.

  I was startled awake by the sound of tree limbs snapping. My eyes shot open and I froze up, listening for more; what I heard was fairly odd. Vicious snarling, somewhat familiar hissing, and the occaisonal shout or groan greeted my ears. Something huge slammed the ground, sending vibrations that reached me and in turn caused me to sink deeper into my sleeping bag. My leg nudged something warm and soft, and Fredric muttered at me in Ferretish in protest.

  He squirmed out of my bag and stood on my chest, blinking drowsily and giving me a wide, toothy yawn. His breath blasted my nostrils; meat-flavored kibble and ferret musk. What a lovely thing to wake up to.

  I shushed his squeaking and sat up and glancing around, causing him to tumble into my lap as I hunted for the source of the sounds. It sounded distinctly like battle, but it came from many places at once; one minute the hissing and snapping was at my right, the next at my left or behind me. My heart raced as I waited for it to get closer, to reach us. Then it died down, just long enough for me to not immediately fear for my life.

  Somewhere behind me and the still-sleeping Jesse, the battle raged on, though quieter, as though the fighters were getting tired.

  Only one thing left to do: not panic and wake up Jesse (that's two things, actually, but you know what I mean).

  I pulled myself out of my sleeping bag, abandoning Fredric on the warm spot I left behind. I scrambled across the short space of grass separating me from Jesse.

  "Jesse...Jesse...Jesse!" I whispered loudly, paranoid of the noises hearing us.

  "Ugh...five more minutes, dad," Jesse muttered drowsily, turning the other way.

  "Jesse, it's me, there's a fight, wake up!"

  "Fight?" She yawned, blinking.

"Break it up yourself dad, jeez, use that hatchet we have in the study..."

  A particularly loud about echoed through the trees: "καταριέται το σκυλί!"

  Jesse was awake in an instant. "'Darn dog'? What was that supposed to be?" She asked, scrambling out of her bag.

  "Greek?" I answered unsurely. I just had a gut feeling it was Greek, even though neither Jesse or I had ever heard the language spoken. It would turn out I was right, but it didnt matter at the moment. Still, I wonder how she had translated that...

  "Well, why are people shouting Greek in the woods--wait, is there someone out there? Are they fighting? Why didn't you wake me up sooner?!" She demanded.

  "Well I tried, but you thought I was your dad..."

  "Oh," she mumbled. "Never mind, that's not important. Do you know who's fighting?" She questioned.

  "Uh, I heard hissing and barking and someone shouting," I said hesitantly. "But I couldn't see them...trees too thick, y'know."

  She looked deep into the thicket of trees, toward where the sounds of battle - and a lot more Greek swearing - were coming from. She got up from her sleeping bag and streched quickly.

  "Come on," she said, "let's go check it out."

  "What?!" I yelped. "Why are we going towards the danger?"