One Last Silence
The Gnomes moved through the woods, silent as could be. They did not know these lands well, knew not of the threats that may lie waiting. They thought they already had encountered all the creatures that mattered, but even then, caution was of import.
Today, the woods were eerie. No birdsong, no footsteps from large herbivores, even the wind was quiet today. The only sounds they heard were the ones they made themselves. They knew this meant there might be a predator lurking about, so they moved with care.
The violence came from nowhere. As if the ground burst open, leaves flew everywhere and a form came from underneath them, launching itself at one of the folk. It struck fast, moving from target to target before they managed to grab their weapons. The few swords that were on time, it avoided with ease.
Soon, the screams stopped. Behind a tree, one last Gnome knelt in fear, his hands cupping his mouth, desperate to not make a sound. He could hear the dying sounds of his compatriots as the creature stalked from person to person, crunching bites ending sound after sound.
He heard a footstep, then nothing. Holding his breath, his hand moved slowly towards his sword before thinking better of it. Instead, he reached for his knife. He grasped it while desperately listening, hoping to hear at least a bit of indication where the creature was.
There was no sound. He kept up his focus in despair, kept holding his breath, until he could no longer last. As he exhaled as softly as he could, he caught a sudden sound coming at him. His knife didn't make it in time. Soon after, silence fell once more.
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