In-Between

Chapter 3

I'm quick to pull out my bow and nock an arrow. The griffin hisses and extend its claws. We circle each other, and I'm deciding where I should let my arrows fly. It would be useless to shoot the griffin anywhere on the body, it's rippling muscles and thick brown fur give too much protection. The arrows would just be annoying toothpicks and I would only make the beast angrier. I could always aim for its eyes, but a bow has always been my weak point.

The griffin is tired of waiting, and crouches, ready to pounce at my next move. I have one chance to find a weakness before I'm griffin catnip.

My arrow flies from my bow. The griffin launches at me as the arrow whizzes by its head and hits the tree behind it. I hold my bow out in front of me and brace for impact. A sharp pain radiates through my shoulder as the sheer weight of the griffin knocks me over. The griffin has me pinned. Not a great position to be in. It pecks at me with it's pointed beak - or at least tries to. I block the blow with my bow, hoping that it won't snap.

I need a distraction and fast. My bow can't take much more of a beating; it's bound to snap at one point or another. I start looking around to see if anything can save me. The griffin doesn't want to wait for me to think of a distraction, because he takes his hooked beak and rips the bow out of my hand, throwing it behind him and out of my reach.

The griffin cocks his head and seems almost to laugh at me with his bird like eyes. He walks towards me, and I frantically crab walk backwards, slashing my hand on a rock and bumping into a soft tree. Except trees aren't fuzzy, warm, and breathing, and when I turn my head I panic even more. Another griffin is behind me. In fact, I'm surrounded in a ring of a pack of griffins.

When I stole the trinket out of the nest,  I accidentally challenged the pack leader.  If you loose the challenge, you're the griffins' next potluck dinner. If the leader looses, they face the same fate you would have received.

Right now the griffin thinks he's won, but I think not. If I'm still alive the challenge is fair game. I grab the rock that cut my hand as the griffin advances towards me. It spreads out its massive golden wings, looking like an angel of death.

And I throw my rock at it.

The rock bounces harmlessly off his fury chest. He's surprised I would have the audacity to do such a thing, and takes a few steps back, looking confused. His few moments of disorientation are all I need to scramble to my feet and pull the dagger from my belt. The griffin has recovered its senses, and I have a weapon again. It's an even challenge.

For the second time this day I'm circling, mirroring my opponents moves. It steps to the left, and I to the right. It's an intricate dance of death between the griffin and me.

The pack stars to close in, suffocating and forcing us to face each other. They're getting hungrier by the minute; they want to know who dinner will be.

I can't drag out this fight anymore. The griffin knows this too, and crouches, ready to pounce. I raise my arm, ready to throw my dagger.

The griffin pounces, flying towards me. My dagger flies.

It's moment's like this when time seems to slow down. Breath. Stay calm. Pray to the gods that my dagger will fly true to its mark. I hold my breath as the claws are almost an inch away from my face before the griffon drops like a stone.

I let out my breath. The dagger sticks out right where the left wing meets the body, the chink in his armor, where major veins are located. Left in the wild, he would die and couldn't fly to escape the bigger beasts that live in the forest. The griffon is as good as dead.

The pack closes in rapidly, screeching and pouncing like feral beasts onto their fallen comrade. They start to pecking with their sharp beaks at him, taking out chunks of flesh. 

I couldn't leave any beast to such a cruel fate.

I wave my arms and shout as loud as I can. Slowly, the entire packs backs of the injured griffon and  stare at me with an intelligent glare. I stride over to where the griffon lay, and then I hiss.

I hiss as loud and as much as I can. The griffins get the idea that since this is my kill, it's mine only. They slink back into the forest without sound, and I'm alone with a dying griffon.