29. Claw - Hunter or Hunted?

“Uh… nice… kitty?”

A low, guttural snarl is the only response garnered from your pleading words. Then the creature moves, unfathomably fast, and you barely have time to leap out of the way before a large paw strikes downwards, claws fully extended and glinting in the sunlight. Though you manage to dodge the full brunt of its fury, you aren’t quite quick enough to completely avoid injury.

Contact is minimal, especially as the claws strike against the steel of your boots. But a single claw slips past your defenses. Tears through cloth and carves a thin line into your skin, blood welling up at the surface of the wound like an afterthought.

Shit, shit, shit, you think, darting to one side to avoid yet another strike poised to collide with your skull. “Any time now, Sariel!” you shout over your shoulder, drawing your sword as the creature draws near.

“Keep it distracted for a couple more seconds!”

Her cry is accompanied by the beast lunging once more, both front paws reaching for your chest. Another step to the left followed by a parry on your part sees the beast denied its prize. Now the two of you are matched, strike for strike, as the fresh gash on the upper part of the beast's leg forces it to limp.

“Stoneskin cougars are a tricky lot. If I don’t douse my arrow with enough fallow-wart, it won’t be knocked unconscious. Too much and–”

“Sariel! Just fire the damned arrow!” you shout as the beast lunges with an intensified ferocity. As if trading wounds with it had only served to stoke the fires of its rage.

It seems to have learnt from your recent avoidance efforts as well; as you step to the side, the beast barely gives you a second to breathe before following up with another claw, swiping hastily at your side.

Yet the strike misses its mark.

You hadn’t move, didn’t really have time to think of anything more than fuck as you watched the whole attack play out in slow motion. Something else must have caught the beast off guard.

There. As the beast howls in pain, you spy a piece of wood protruding from its hind leg, complete with white feather fletchings on the end.

A moment later, Sariel joins you, eyeing her handiwork as the beast slowly settles on the ground, groaning in equal parts frustration and pain. “Were you worried I’d miss?” she asks, a teasing grin settling in on her face.

You shake your head and gasp out a breath you didn’t even realise you were holding. “Think I was more worried the bloody thing would eat me before you even fired.”