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Authors: Peter David
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breeze was bringing its scent to her, but it was unaware of her presence.
A tall tree stood nearby. It was the Piri way either to attack in numbers, or else hide below and try to pull the prey down to them. Neither option presented itself to Clarinda, and so she chose a third option: Height.
She leaped upward, light as air, gripped the lower branches of the nearest tree, and quickly gained some altitude. Then she crouched there, immobile, cloaked in shadow. She heard a distant growling and her fingers wrapped tightly around the branch. Poised in a feral crouch, she remained unmoving. Clarinda was amazed to discover just how much she was enjoying the sensation of the hunt.
She heard the bir drawing ever closer and slowed her breathing so that she wouldn’t be rushed. She knew she had to time this perfectly. Birs were big monsters with impressive strength. Once she had seen one on the edge of death, and yet a random sweep of its paw had been sufficient to crush the skull of a Piri that had gotten careless.
Closer…closer…all the time in the world. That was what she kept telling herself, and yet it was difficult to maintain that degree of levelheadedness as her growing hunger try to compel her to be precipitous. She realized her legs were shaking and she stilled them with effort.
The bir was growling low in its throat; she could hear it even from her perch. Then the bir stopped moving. She became concerned that it had caught her scent somehow, even though there was simply no way it should have been able to. There was a long pause that seemed to stretch out forever, and she was about to cry out in hunger and frustration when suddenly the bir was moving and it was there, right below her, lumbering into view. Padding forwarded on all fours, it stopped dead again, looking around, sniffing the air as if certain there was something in the vicinity that posed a danger but unable to determine precisely what.
Perfect, she thought, and Clarinda released her hold on the branch. She descended, straight as a perfectly thrown spear. The bir must have had a second or two warning caused by the air rushing past her as she fell, but she couldn’t do anything about that. It wasn’t going to matter, though. The bir was big and slow moving and there was no way that it was going to be able to dodge her.
She was right.
Clarinda landed on the bir’s back. The bir roared and tried to claw at her, but she had her arms wrapped around its throat so that its flailing claws couldn’t reach her.
To her astonishment, the bir suddenly reared back and stood on its hind legs. It can stand on two legs? Shit. She hadn’t known they could do that. She had only ever seen them down in Subterror where the ceilings were so low that the bir standing upright had never been a possibility. Even as she processed this new and distressing bit of information, she dug her fingers into its fur to prevent herself from sliding off. Her legs wrapped around its midsection and then Clarinda, baring her fangs, sunk them into the creature’s throat.
The bir roared and threw itself backward against the nearest tree.
Pain ripped through Clarinda’s body, the sheer weight of the creature nearly being sufficient to crush her. Originally she had intended simply to take enough of the creature’s blood to satisfy her hunger. That was rapidly becoming no longer a possibility. If she released her hold on the bir and it was still alive, the thing was so fearsome and full of power that it would turn upon her and rip her to shreds. This was no longer simply a meal. This was Clarinda fighting for her survival.
Howling, the bir staggered forward from the tree. She braced herself for another impact, drinking quickly, greedily, blood dribbling down the sides of her mouth and onto the creature’s fur. The bir did not repeat the maneuver, however. Perhaps it was just too damned stupid to realize that it had hurt her and that repeated impacts of that nature might well be sufficient
A tall tree stood nearby. It was the Piri way either to attack in numbers, or else hide below and try to pull the prey down to them. Neither option presented itself to Clarinda, and so she chose a third option: Height.
She leaped upward, light as air, gripped the lower branches of the nearest tree, and quickly gained some altitude. Then she crouched there, immobile, cloaked in shadow. She heard a distant growling and her fingers wrapped tightly around the branch. Poised in a feral crouch, she remained unmoving. Clarinda was amazed to discover just how much she was enjoying the sensation of the hunt.
She heard the bir drawing ever closer and slowed her breathing so that she wouldn’t be rushed. She knew she had to time this perfectly. Birs were big monsters with impressive strength. Once she had seen one on the edge of death, and yet a random sweep of its paw had been sufficient to crush the skull of a Piri that had gotten careless.
Closer…closer…all the time in the world. That was what she kept telling herself, and yet it was difficult to maintain that degree of levelheadedness as her growing hunger try to compel her to be precipitous. She realized her legs were shaking and she stilled them with effort.
The bir was growling low in its throat; she could hear it even from her perch. Then the bir stopped moving. She became concerned that it had caught her scent somehow, even though there was simply no way it should have been able to. There was a long pause that seemed to stretch out forever, and she was about to cry out in hunger and frustration when suddenly the bir was moving and it was there, right below her, lumbering into view. Padding forwarded on all fours, it stopped dead again, looking around, sniffing the air as if certain there was something in the vicinity that posed a danger but unable to determine precisely what.
Perfect, she thought, and Clarinda released her hold on the branch. She descended, straight as a perfectly thrown spear. The bir must have had a second or two warning caused by the air rushing past her as she fell, but she couldn’t do anything about that. It wasn’t going to matter, though. The bir was big and slow moving and there was no way that it was going to be able to dodge her.
She was right.
Clarinda landed on the bir’s back. The bir roared and tried to claw at her, but she had her arms wrapped around its throat so that its flailing claws couldn’t reach her.
To her astonishment, the bir suddenly reared back and stood on its hind legs. It can stand on two legs? Shit. She hadn’t known they could do that. She had only ever seen them down in Subterror where the ceilings were so low that the bir standing upright had never been a possibility. Even as she processed this new and distressing bit of information, she dug her fingers into its fur to prevent herself from sliding off. Her legs wrapped around its midsection and then Clarinda, baring her fangs, sunk them into the creature’s throat.
The bir roared and threw itself backward against the nearest tree.
Pain ripped through Clarinda’s body, the sheer weight of the creature nearly being sufficient to crush her. Originally she had intended simply to take enough of the creature’s blood to satisfy her hunger. That was rapidly becoming no longer a possibility. If she released her hold on the bir and it was still alive, the thing was so fearsome and full of power that it would turn upon her and rip her to shreds. This was no longer simply a meal. This was Clarinda fighting for her survival.
Howling, the bir staggered forward from the tree. She braced herself for another impact, drinking quickly, greedily, blood dribbling down the sides of her mouth and onto the creature’s fur. The bir did not repeat the maneuver, however. Perhaps it was just too damned stupid to realize that it had hurt her and that repeated impacts of that nature might well be sufficient
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