Instinct

The Beast

Sparky grew quickly as the seasons passed. By the time winter rolled around again, his back reached my waist. His appetite grew with him and because of that, we had to hunt further from home when we could or we'd risk driving small animals so far away, they'd be near impossible to reach when the snows came. It was rare, but occasionally we'd come across deer and large pigs. They were opportunities we couldn't pass up, even if I was so laden with kills I could barely carry them all.

On the fourth week of the snowy season, I awoke early in the morning to a cold nose pressed against the skin on the underside of my chin. It was a strange sensation, feeling the warm breath of something capable of ripping my throat out fanning that very spot. But it wasn't fear or threat that woke me, it was his persistent nudging.

He moved back to let me up, sitting by the door with his tails softly glowing so I could see my way around the cave. I moved toward the door thinking he needed to pee, but he lifted a boot in his mouth and dropped it at my feet.

A snort outside stopped the angry tirade on the tip of my tongue. Early hour forgotten, I tied my hair back and slid my boots on, snatching the bow from the nook above the door at the same time. I slid the door aside and peeked outside.

The light from the full moon reflecting off the snow made it bright enough to see a deer at the tree line, its antlers apparently tangled in hanging vines of ivy. I loaded an arrow and drew back the string, taking careful aim. The deer looked over at us and struggled frantically, managing to free itself just as I let the arrow fly.

"Damn it!" I swore, as the arrow embedded in its hind leg.

Adrenaline alone would drive the deer for kilometres even with an injury like that. I fumbled in my haste to tie the fur cloak at the neck and raced after Sparky in the hope that he'd take it down quickly.

We caught up with it no time. It stumbled in deeper snow drifts, having difficulty finding purchase with a useless hind leg. Sparky waited by my side until I released the arrow that took its life. He bounded across the open space, but skidded to a stop when he was a few metres away. His head jerked to the right, teeth bared and snarling at something I couldn't see. Head down and body crouched, Sparky retreated slowly, not taking his eyes from the threat. His fear amplified my own, so once he reached my side, I mimicked him, walking backwards with my weapon ready to shoot anything that emerged from the shadow of the woods. Whatever it was could have the deer.

What emerged froze my feet to the spot in terror. A scaled beast, similar in size to Sparky, opened its mouth to display saliva dripping teeth at us. It dropped its head so a row of spines running the length of its back stood vertically like hackles. Spurred into movement once again by Sparky's nudge, I stepped back and tripped over a hidden rock. The arrow left my hand as I fell, narrowly missing the beast.

It reared on its hind legs, swiping the air with taloned fingers, before charging at us.

Sparky mirrored the action, charging at the beast. They met in a clash of teeth and claws, snarls and tearing flesh, the viciousness of the sound inducing panic.

With shaking hands, I raised the bow, fumbling to load an arrow. My breath came in short, rapid bursts, the vapour freezing and clouding my vision when looking for a chance to hit the beast as the two kicked up a blizzard of snow while they rolled around. The first shot bounced off its scaly back.

I tried to tune out their savage snarls and snapping to concentrate on the next shot.

The beast reared over Sparky. I fired at its chest. It yelped, landing hard on top of Sparky before running off through the trees. I listened for a few moments, until the sound of snapping twigs and branches grew distant.

Sparky didn't move. I knew in my heart that he was gone, but I was afraid to look beyond his lifeless eyes and see the damage the beast had done.