Horns ✖

Protection

"Hey, hey, slow your beak three-horn-"

"I-I saw t-them!" I whimpered, my body too shocked to even hold still, let alone listen to my friend's desperate plea, "The feathered raptors, a-all of them! They were in t-the meadowlands-!"

"Calm down," He reassured again, meeting my eyes as he sat upward on all fours, "How many?"

"I...um..." I shook my head in dazzled thought, "Nine...or ten? At least?"

The club-tail murmered to himself my words, his facial expressions changing ever so slightly. He was enamored by the numbers of predators, far more than I had anticipated, and for the moment I questioned why. It wasn't until the club-tail's golden eyes widened slowly that I discovered his fear, and matched it with my own, "That doesn't constitute a hunting pack. If anything that's a battle troop."

"For my hide!" I hissed back, watching him lumber past me, "They know what I did to one of their kind last night Wrecker, they're going to kill me tonight!"

"Did your weird carnivorous translation...thingy tell you that? Or did you just run into a pack you assume to be following you?"

"Have I ever lied to you, friend?" I croaked, tucking in my tail upon meeting his unsure gaze, "I heard them...every word. They know what I've done. And when they find me tonight..."

I trailed off, already imagining what would become of me. I could see it all so vividly: their ravenous teeth sinking into my flesh, those raw hideous claws scoring wounds upon my hide, and perhaps one through the neck, and their bloody party howling and screeching victoriously over my corpse. It was inevitable, especially at my current state. And to be fair I had no ideas to combat it, no helpful visions or words of wisdom from anyone. I couldn't outrun them, hell I couldn't fight them at this state, especially not alone. My scent was a target, and with my blood sunken into their nostrils, it wasn't a matter of where they'd come but rather when they'd arrive.

Wrecker suddenly snorted in disapproval, narrowing his eyes and slammed one foot into the ground.

"No."

"No?"

"No!" He repeated, shaking his head and proceeded to walk toward the center of the sleeping herd, "They won't find you. And you're not dying to a bunch of feathered....birds, not as I live and breathe!"

"What are you doing...?"

"I'm waking the herd."

"What?!"

"Running away won't save you from those filthy raptors! And fighting them will only seal your fate. You need protection."

"But-" I clamped my beak, lashing out with a whip of my tail, "The herd cannot become a part of this!"

"Why not?"

"I-" I swallowed my roars again, settling down a bit, "I don't want to risk their lives! Not again! Especially not after what happened before! Didn't you see, your kind got hurt because of my hind! Why should their blood be spilled if I am the source of it all?"

"We are a herd, friend," He growled softly, relaxing his tone a bit and dipped his head, "And herds stick together, no matter the cost, no matter the trouble, no matter what! You saved all of us last night. It's time we do the same for you."

"I-I'm not even a club-tail," I whimpered with a wobbling skull, "I'm not a healer, I don't have a strong, powerful tail like you, nor protection on my back. And I'm nowhere near perfect, or kind, o-or as loyal as you. I'm just a clueless, broken three-horn who started something horrible, and brought all this violent hell upon your world. How could you say you wish to protect me if everything I am to you all is a source of torment?"