"Move! Sir Raith, run!"
The captain's voice broke into a frantic, jagged shriek. The seasoned composure he had displayed minutes earlier shattered under the crushing weight of reality.
Thirty pairs of burning crimson eyes glowed with predatory hunger along the high, jagged ridges of the dead gorge. Claws clicked against the stone in an overlapping, frenzied rhythm as the pack of bone-plated monstrosities began to crawl down the sheer rock walls like a swarm of ravenous locusts.
The captain lunged forward, his heavy, gauntleted hand reaching out to grab the shoulder of my woolen tunic to forcibly haul me back down the narrow trail toward the camp's barricade.
"We need to fall back into the bottleneck! If we stay in this open gully, they'll surround us and tear us to pieces in seconds! Move your legs, kid!"
I didn't run.
With a subtle, effortless shift of my weight, I stepped half an inch out of the captain's reach. His iron gauntlet caught only empty, freezing air.
