Life may force you into situations to hone that survival instinct in every living creature. This is a rare opportunity for you to asses the situation, dig deep within yourself and call upon your inner strength and courage.

If that doesn’t work, run like hell.

Chain mail clinked and scraped against the boulder as the second Vallen stepped from the shadows.

“Now boys, don’t be hasty,” Chuck stammered. “My, what BIG ARMS you have!” The giants converged upon him, laughing. The wizard shook a finger at them, “I’m guessin’ neither of you boys were breast fed as babies…?”

Wendell fought with all his might not to scream in terror.

…it didn’t work.

His shriek pierced the air. It grabbed the attention of the two aggressors on the ledge, but it also caught the attention of the beasts in the field below. The beasts feasting upon the flesh of the dead.

Luckily, it was just the kind of distraction Chuck needed.

Before Wendell had finished exhaling his female rendition of distress, a light blinded him. No sound, no pain, no sight. Then Wendell heard a crack…then a yell. A deep yell…followed by a distant thud. The same sounds were repeated…and then a moment later, hands were grabbing at him aggressively. He screamed again. Swinging wildly, he tried to punch the invisible attacker.

“Would you STOP THAT!??” growled Dax. He jumped up and slapped Wendell across the face.

“OW!”

“Well quit fightin’ me, ya idjut—we gotta GO!”

Yanked forward, Wendell was quickly shoved, prodded, kicked and pulled up the hillside.

“You couldn’t have told the kid to shut his eyes?”

“Oh, like I have to think of EVERYthing…”

“We’d be moving faster without him blind, old man.”

“Thank you would suffice, monkey.”

“…sigh…thank you.”

“Welcome. Where’s the gnome?”

“Here!” Wendell felt a small hand slip into his, “Come on, Wendell, let’s get you out of here.”

“Where did you go?” He hadn’t recalled seeing Alhannah when the Vallen burst into the clearing.

She giggled, “Gnomes don’t have to be seen when we don’t want to be. I was about to jump off the rock overhead and skewer one, but…”

“But the old man got to them first,” the wizard cut in, “Oh, yeah.”

“Then Dax threw them off the ledge,” Wendell finished, “got it.”

“No,” Chuck said, sounding a bit hurt. “I played a little baseball with my staff. Took out a little fat one below, too, poor fellow—he didn’t realize it was raining ugly.”

Ithari was already healing Wendell’s vision. Shapes formed across the white landscape. Alhannah tugged him quickly around obstacles, adding verbal prompts as they went. “Step up—boulder to your left, run your hand along it as a guide,…that’s it.”

Tha-THUMP-Thump, Tha-THUMP-Thump, Tha-THUMP-Thump

Something howled from the shadows behind them.

Shapes became blurs with shadowy blurs attached.

Again, a howl…followed by a second. Wendell could hear the rattling of metal. The clanging of weapons. They’re coming!

“I don’t know what that was,” he trembled, puling his hand free from Alhannah, “but I want to go faster!”

Dax hopped over rocks and stumps, the morning light creeping through the trees. Over the ridge they ran. Weaving through the brush and sliding down the rock embankment to their camp. They didn’t stop. Once they reached the valley’s floor, Dax dropped to all fours—swinging across the ground at top speed. It reminded Wendell of a chimpanzee.

“Keep up!” Dax shouted. “If we can find a big enough clearing, we might be able to port!”

Alhannah’s armor clinked as she sprinted, while Chuck held his robe up with both hands, running as fast as his boney knees could take him.

Another howl ripped through the silence. Wendell looked over his shoulder with trepidation. They’re getting closer!

Tha-THUMP-Thump! Tha-THUMP-Thump!

A second howl erupted. The hair on Wendell’s neck rose. He bit his own tongue in panic as he ran. A brief glimmer of movement, pacing them, along the ridge to their right. The sounds were followed by snapping branches and sliding rocks to his left. They’re blocking us in!

“Hounds!” Alhannah shouted. “They have our scent—MOVE IT!”

Stop.

Wendell’s vision cleared. His mind raced as he looked for a place to run. Hide. Escape.

The wizard wheezed, his pace slowed. The valley ahead bottlenecked into a grove of trees.

We can’t keep running like this—Chuck won’t be able to keep up.

“I hear the river,” Dax shouted back. With a leap off a fallen tree, he took off through the dense forest incline. “If we make it to the water, we have a chance—they can’t track what they can’t smell!”

Stop.

The pain in Wendell’s chest lessened. He looked over his shoulder, then at the wizard.

“Did you he…” he started.

“Move, boy!” Chuck snapped, shoving him through the edge of the grove.

The trees had grown so tight, so interwoven, they could no longer walk side by side. Spaced slightly wider than the width of a man, Wendell was forced to turn his shoulders to navigate through. Roots rose from the soil, a sea of lifeless snakes, making it almost impossible to find sure footing. Wendell hopped and jumped over each obstacle.

This is ridiculous—we’re going to get caught!

It was even worse for the wizard. The brisk run had worn him to the point exhaustion and Chuck was already gasping for breath. His face looked horribly pale. Before he could get more than twenty feet into the grove, his hand slipped against the smooth bark of a tree, the flat of his sandal catching on a shoot. Chuck tumbled forward and slammed, head first, into the roots below.

“Chuck!” Wendell cried out.

Without warning, a hound lunged, slamming into the outer trees of the grove. Saliva foamed over rows of jagged teeth that snapped incessantly. The trunks creaked and moaned as the beast frantically pushed, reaching, clawing at the air and raking the ground. Wendell nervously dragged Chuck deeper into the grove, the monster biting and clawing at the plants in its way.

The light of dawn now afforded Wendell a clear glimpse of his pursuer…and it terrified him. The size of a grizzly bear, it was neither dog, nor cat, or even reptile, yet it had both scales and fur. Two paws desperately reached for its prey…while four hind legs pushed its barrel chest against the barrier of the grove. The jingling and clinking of metal rang through the forest, made by crude, rusted chains dangling from rings piercing the beasts face.

Wendell set Chuck down between the roots, then propped his back against a trunk. Dax slid up to his side.

“He ok?” The trolls brows rolled upwards as big eyes quickly scanned for wounds.

The barking increased, growing louder as the gnome approached. The Hound snapped its jaws, steel traps with strings of saliva flinging about wildly.

Alhannah snatched a rock and threw it—striking the beast square upon the nose.

It shrieked and reeled its head.

Chuck’s head flopped forward, his gnarled hand clutching his chest.

His face was pale, his lips a powdered haze of blue. Dax lifted the wide brimmed hat off his head. Blood immediately trailed down his forehead from under his hairline. It ran across the hunched bridge of his nose, and branched across both cheeks.

“Aww hell,” he cursed.

“Here,” said Alhannah, “let me.” Her small fingers gently searched through the tuft of hair. “He’s going to have a nice egg, but the cut doesn’t look too bad. We need to wash it to get a better look.”

Chuck pushed her hands away.

“Fly you fools!” he gasped dramatically. With a last cough, he slowly closed his eyes.

“We’re not going anywhere without you, ya decrepit old twit,” retorted Dax. “And you’re not done for—you got clocked by a tree.”

Chuck peeked up at Wendell, “Just a tree?”

Wendell nodded.

He leaned forward, glancing at the Hound, tearing at the grove with tooth and nail.

“It didn’t get me as I used my body as a barrier to save Wendell’s life?”

Alhannah shook her head. “Sorry.”

“Hmph,” grunted the wizard. He held out both hands, “Well, I shouldn’t be too disappointed…” he winked at Wendell, “I was rather fond of myself, you know. Would have been a terrible waste of wit and charm.”

Unfortunately they discovered the wound to be more real than imaginary. Chuck stumbled along with great difficulty. Both Dax and Alhannah helped him, with his staff as the main crutch. They could all hear the rushing sound of the river by now, echoing through the grove. At the same time, the second hound made its appearance along the back side of the grove, which now revealed itself to be but a pocket of trees. Both Hounds ran along the outer rim, looking for a way to take advantage of their breakfast.

“We’re trapped,” cursed Dax. “The river is up and over that next ridge, but they’ve cut us off.”

Wendell.

“Can’t you port us out of here?” Wendell asked. He watched the Hounds sniffing along the edge of the trees, looking for a wider opening to gain entrance.

Dax shook his head. “I don’t even know if I got enough strength yet—but even if I did, I gotta have some open space. Otherwise I’d port the mass o’ trees with us. The more mass, the harder it gets…and I ain’t that good.”

“But even if we get to the water…we still have to ditch the Hounds,” Alhannah added.

The grove, Wendell.

The grove ended abruptly at the base of a hillside. There was a small clearing—a gap between groves. The Hounds paced back and forth within the gap, waiting.

“Can you use that clearing to port?” Wendell asked.

Dax considered. “Yeah, but…”

“But what?”

“It takes a minute or so for me to carry this many people. Have to concentrate. I can pop outta here myself just fine, maybe with two…but not four. That takes time—and those pups ain’t gonna wait. Plus, if we do this wrong, it could be a day before I can try it again.” He patted Chucks hand tenderly, “The owners of those Hounds’ll be here soon, too. We got one shot at this. We need to make it to the water.”

“We have to run,” Alhannah finished.

Chuck coughed and sank down on a root, panting. Blood ran down over his beard. “Joy. More running.”

A thought kept tickling the back of Wendell’s mind. Something big. Something crazy.

“I have an idea,” he said.

“Kid, we don’t…” Dax started, but Wendell held up a hand, cutting him off.

“Here me out. The water’s over that ridge. We need to get there—and I’m assuming to douse ourselves in it, to…lose the hounds, get rid of our scent?”

“That’s the plan, yeah.”

“So we need a diversion. Something to lure the Hounds away while the others make a break for the upper tree line. Am I getting it so far?”

Dax frowned, “Yeah, but…”

“Look,” Wendell cut in, “you have to get us to safety. You’re the only one who can port. Alhannah can fight and Chuck needs protection more than I do right now. I can heal, he can’t. The best option is to get you three over that ridge, through the water and find a clearing. You need to be ready to port all of us away...”

Alhannah squeezed Wendell’s hand and looked at him sternly, “And where does that leave you?”

It was then that Wendell realized that his idea wasn’t crazy…it was stupid. “As bait,” he gulped.

Yup, that was me. I actually said it out loud. Oh boy—I hope this works.

Dax and Alhannah looked at each other. Chuck moaned and fell backwards into Dax’s arms.

“Trust me,” Wendell assured them, but there was a creak in his voice, “if there’s one thing I know how to do…it’s taunting bullies.”

“Wendell,” Alhannah protested, but he smiled and knelt down in front of her.

“I can’t fight. I know that, you know that—so I’m still depending on you guys to be ready for when I come running.” The words came calmly to his lips. His breathing became steady. “I…trust you. I’m going to trust Ithari…so, please, trust me, ok?” He grinned wide, “I gotta good feeling.” Wendell stood up and, “Just stay low and when you see an opening, make for the water.”

Without another word, he started running along the roots…straight for the pacing Hounds.

Oh I hope you know what you’re doing, Wendell.

The grove was oblong in shape and he soon noticed something useful—the trees were more dense at the outer rim that they were at the center. Even the roots were less dense near the center, allowing him to sprint from one side to the other without much hinderance.

The Hounds had been pacing, watching the party, but as soon as Wendell sprinted away, they followed. Not just one of them. They both growled and barked, snapping their great jaws at the moving morsel, bouncing and hopping like a rabbit through the trees. Every so often, one of the beasts would jump at an opening in the grove, desperately trying to get at Wendell. It would reach and stretch, pawing at the ground, biting at the bark.

When either of the Hounds turned away or looked uninterested, he would jump closer, laughing and yelling just beyond reach. It had it’s desired effect.

Both creatures tore at the trees, possessed.

More than once smaller plants were ripped from the ground and throw aside…but they couldn’t quite get to the prey they desired so desperately.

It wasn’t long before Wendell realized the flaw in his plan.

How am I supposed to get out of here?

The pause in his stride was just long enough to give him the answer.

Pushing and clawing, one of the Hounds managed to get past the first set of trees…then a second. It twisted and wiggled, but it was unable to stay horizontal. It didn’t care. The prey was near.

Near.

Wendell looked about and snapped off a branch the length of his arm.

He smiled. “Alright you puppy dogs, let’s play.”

You can do this, he told himself firmly, you’re the Wendellizer….

“Come on ugly!” he taunted the Hound struggling to get through the grove.

Mouth open, a giant, pink forked tongue flicked, followed by chomping teeth.

“You want me, boy? Then COME AND GET ME!” and Wendell jabbed at a flailing paw with the stick. He weaved his way along the tighter set of trees.

There was an explosion of movement. Wendell wasn’t sure if the Hound was shaking with anger, desperation, or having some kind of seizure. Leaves fell to the ground all around, but the beast couldn’t move. The barking slowly reduced and subsided.

Barks changed to whimpers.

Wendell sprinted away.

The second Hound paced his movements, lightly trotting along the clearing. Unlike the first beast, this one didn’t make a lunge at every taunt Wendell made. Try as he did, Wendell couldn’t get the same reaction.

So you’re the smart one.

At the far side of the grove, Wendell discovered the perfect spot. The trees opened wider near the outer edge, but a virtual maze of roots and other plant life made it the perfect net. All he needed was a willing participant.

The Hound paced back and forth at the mouth of the trap. Wendell stood in plain sight. He positioned himself in the opening, to give the animal an unobstructed view of the potential meal. Sweat trickled down his brow. He wondered if the Hound could smell the sweet. The thought made him nervous for some reason.

Why won’t you take the bait? Come on, blast you—I don’t have all day.

Wendell took a step closer.

Nothing happened. Wendell gripped the stick tighter in his hand.

…and took a step closer.

The Hound made no sound, but it slinked back and forth, again reminding Wendell of a giant cat.

He took a step closer.

Tha-THUMP-Thump!

He took a step closer.

Tha-THUMP-Thump! Tha-THUMP-Thump!

Wendell wondered in that last moment if he was experiencing what the human soldiers had…as the Hounds darted onto the field. The blur of shadow solidifying into teeth and claws.

Fire shot through his face and collarbone. Blood sprayed.

Wendell’s blood.

The Hound writhed in frustration among the trees. A single paw clawed the air in desperation. Yearning. It was the paw that sent Wendell flying backwards with torn shirt, chest and cheek. He landed hard, the small of his back slamming against a rooted snake.

He moaned. He could taste blood in his mouth.

Looking up at the great beast in complete and total shock, I did it. “I freaking DID it!” he laughed out loud, then flinched at the pain in his cheek. Slowly rising to his feet, he looked around.

The glee on his face vanished.

“…and no one saw a thing,” he sighed.

Picking up the stick, he crept closer to the Hound. It too, was whimpering—but Wendell didn’t trust it.

“You really are an ugly sucker, aren’t you? Not that you can say anything back, of course, but…”

He paused. “What did they do to you?”

The animal had sores and boils along its neck and face. Rusted chains dangled from rings piercing its eyelids, nose and lips. Puss oozed from wounds unattended and the skin around each of the piercings was bloody and swollen.

Even with the pain he was in, Wendell felt sorry for the beast.

“You’re only doing what they taught you to do, aren’t you?” Probably starving. He cocked his head to the side, taking a step forward. Wait an minute…what is…that?

Protruding from the side of the Hounds nose, near the ring piercing, was what looked to be some kind of clamp. Tiny, thin arms…holding a small three inch knob against the skin.

Curious, Wendell reached out, grabbed the handle…and yanked.

The howl was deafening.

Wendell stumbled backwards against a tree, tripping over his own feet. He looked at the object in his hand. It looked like a small dagger. Metal, the blade not more than four inches in length, but instead of a hilt, it had bladed claws. Four curved, barbed claws, now with small pieces of flesh attached to them.

Wendell looked back at the Hound, appalled. “What the crap did they do to you?”

Blood poured from the open wound as the incessant barking began once more. Through the trees, Wendell saw more than a dozen soldiers running towards the grove.

Wendell dropped the piece of metal onto the ground and started running.

****

“Did you find any way down?” Alhannah shouted.

It was hard to hear above the roar of the waterfall. Her hair was already wet from the mist in the air and she brushed back the bangs from her eyes. “Any way across at all?”

Dax stepped up through the bushes, shaking his head. “The ridge goes down as far as I can see.”

She anxiously looked at the wizard, who had sunk to his hands and knees. A trail of vomit ran from his bottom lip, down his beard and into the wet grass. It mingled with the fresh blood dripping from the tip of his nose and over the edge of the cliff. Chucks face looked nearly as white as his beard.

“Then what do we do?”

“Currents too strong, too fast to wade through, ‘specially with Chuck. The fall from this height’d…well…” Dax squeezed the gnomes shoulders reassuringly. “We’ll find a way out of here, ‘Hannah. I promise. As soon as Wendell…”

Dax was cut off by rustling in the bushes behind them.

“The Vallen!” Wendell cried out, “Guys!! They found us!”

Flinging the the branches aside, Wendell leapt into the open, tripped over the prone wizard…and plummeted over the cliff.

Chuck’s bushy eyebrows poked over the lip of the cliff, Wendell’s scream following his vanishing body into the mist. The wizard coughed, then gagged, then spat the bile from his mouth. He looked up at Dax and Alhannah.

“That’s not good.”