These Wolfstags were different from any other I’d seen before–their horns weren’t curling and thick, but instead sprouted from the back of their skulls and followed their heads forward, coming to a forward facing point just above their eyebrows. Their paws were quite a bit bigger than they would have been on a Thunder Wolfstag of that size, nearly twice as large. These paws (and their magic), allowed them to walk on the surface of the muddy, devouring soil underfoot.

The pack lunged forward, going to bite into the head of one of the trapped members of the pack, but it was fended off by the concentrated efforts of the four grounded keelish. A second wolfstag circled around, looking to assail an unprotected flank, but was similarly driven off. The wolfstags, however, were obviously in no hurry, simply working to force a weak point from which to pick off individual keelish.

For a brief moment, I slowed and forced myself to evaluate these new foes. At first, I’d thought these Wolfstags to be specialized in earth magic and that was what had enabled them to soften the earth underfoot, but the continuously dripping water from their bodies wasn’t from the moisture in the air but was coming from their magics being exerted on the natural world. The water immediately percolated into the ground and deepened the mud suffusing the area, making it into their own domain.

I focused myself, activating [Combatant’s Bloodlust] and looking at the wolfstag nearest to me. A glowing point appeared on their back and I began to rear back to hurl my spear at it, but the noise of our approach startled the hunters and my target began to whirl around to face us. As best as I could, I adjusted my aim to strike true, but only inflicted a flesh wound on the creature’s shoulder. It began limping away while other members of its pack came forward to deal with us.

Cursing under my breath at the stupidity of losing my only weapon allowing me to attack from a range, I let out an [Innervating Address] without any real words, simply a bestial roar of rage. My magic flowed out of me as my pack and the four keelish in front of me let out similar screeches. A wolfstag approached me, nipping at an arm, and I pulled my arm back while I lashed out with the other. It didn’t connect. A second wolfstag rushed past me in the same way, and again my claws met only air.

With a monumental feat of effort, I pushed myself forward, wading through the thick mud past my waist. The combination of the sandy mud and thick roots of the grasses made it nearly impossible to make quick progress and I couldn’t find any purchase. I struggled forward as I tried to get closer to the exhausted group of hunters. My efforts were counterproductive.

One of the four, a female I vaguely recognized as a member of Durgal’s scouts, looked to me excited, hopeful… distracted. She turned a little too far from her companions and exposed the back of her skull. The wolfstags were quick to capitalize on the opportunity. One raced to her, and as she realized her mistake, it sunk its fangs into the base of her skull and began pulling her out the the encirclement of her pack.

The two nearest to the female’s now limp corpse lashed out in an attempt to kill the assaulter, but the creature sidestepped one attack before lunging forward and burying its two forward facing horns in the shoulder of the other. The keelish hissed at its aggressor and pulled back in pain, giving the wolfstag just enough time to haul the keelish’s corpse out of range of the survivors’ reach.

I pushed forward as hard as I could, but couldn’t do anything against the more agile wolfstags. There was a quick bark from the one that seemed to be the leader, and the pack quickly melted back into the grasses and within moments was gone.

These wolfstags had absolutely walked all over our hunting pack.

…

It was the work of several minutes to extract ourselves from the hardening mud we were caught in. In some ways, the thickening and hardening of the silt was to our benefit, allowing us to better find places where we could step, but each time we found ourselves buried deeper in the mud, the firmer, less forgiving earth was even more difficult to move through. The longer it took, the more effort it took for me to reign in my ever less controlled temper.

By the time we got to the edge of the Sea Wolfstags’ domain (as I was calling them), I was internally coming up with entirely new curses in keelish, Common, and Veushten tongues alike. The frustration from having been incapable of helping one of my subordinates right in front of me, the difficulty of retrieving my spear after the failed throw, the annoyance of mud coating nearly every bit of my skin, the rage from watching my swarm die helplessly… I had well and truly worked myself into a state.

I stalked out of the mud, now only just past my ankles, and called out, “Gamma, First, to me!”

In a moment Sybil and Rulac were before me. I only took a minute or two to explain what had happened within the grass. “We’re going to wipe these furry, flea-bitten friisht from the face of this beach, starting here. Take the swarm and surround this entire swathe of grass, ensure that no wolfstags exit. We need food and we’ve found it. If you have any suggestions for how to outmaneuver or outclass our prey, let me know. Otherwise, hold the positions for now.”

Rulac nodded quickly and jogged off while Sybil thought for a moment. “Give me a moment. I feel like there’s something simple we can do here.” I couldn’t keep the smile from my face as I heard her confident words.

As I calmed myself forcibly, I observed my mate. She wasn’t as comely as Shemira, or really most any other member of the swarm. I wasn’t sure what it was that made a keelish or khatif attractive physically, perhaps the gleaming of their scales, the sinuousness of their body, or the length of their tails, but whatever it was, Sybil lacked. She had become more fetching with her evolution to khatif, but she remained rather plain. Nonetheless, the way her brows knitted as she contemplated a difficult question, how her tail twitched when frustrated with me or it ran down my arm when she flirted, or the shine in her eyes when she’d thought of some brilliant plan, all of these things made me realize that she wasn’t just my Gamma and the means to the end of me gaining more stat points. Instead, she had become my partner. I enjoyed teasing her, the trust that I had begun to implicitly give her, the support I could unconditionally expect from her.

I leaned forward and gently bunted Sybil’s head, accidentally stirring her from her train of thought.

“Yes?”

“I… just was appreciating the view.”

She scoffed. “If you want a view, I can call Shemira. She’d welcome the attention.”

“No, I don’t want to look at her. I want to look at you.”

A confused look.

“I just… Never mind it. I can see an idea in those eyes of yours.”

A shrug, then a grin. “Yes, I’ve got a thought.”