Thu’lain was studying the kill, intent on harvesting something more tangible than the satisfaction of taking down a creature as mighty as an apex.

Average hardness hide (not worth the trouble), oversized claws (too damaged to harvest), eyes (nothing too special), teeth (possible weaponry), standard blood (no notable special properties) -

Thu’lain heard the sizzling of its saliva, still burning the ground nearby.

Acid gland could be useful.

He knelt next to the apex and cut straight through its scaled neck, ignoring the black blood that trickled out. He was forced to pause every few moments to cut something else out of the way as he searched for the acid gland, turning what was already dirty work into an absolute mess. Anar’dea stepped around the apex and started pulling some of the hide back, making room to work. Thu’lain nodded his thanks before delving back into his task.

A few minutes later and Thu’lain was pulling a fleshy pod out of its throat and dropping it a few feet away; the gland was nearly the size of his torso and, despite all the damage the apex had been dealt, it was remarkably intact. He looked over to Anar’dea, who had stepped away from the body as well.

“Acid gland.”

“Uh huh, think you’ll get much out of it?” She wiped her hands off in the soil, getting the black blood off of her. Thu’lain shrugged. She accepted the non-answer and got to studying the apex herself, assessing what could be salvaged. She was plucking arrows out - at least the decent ones - and cleaning them when someone called out in alarm.

“Get off the ground!” Tin’lo shouted from above.

Both Anar’dea and Thu’lain were in the canopy in seconds. Anar’dea willed her cloak to conceal her among the leaves, suspecting that’s what the others had done because no one else was in sight. As she scanned for danger, she saw Thu’lain freeze in place; he was so still that she almost missed him. She waited for him to flee higher - or at least lay flat against the branch - since he didn’t have a cloak. Instead, she witnessed as his skin and clothing began to camouflage into the foliage, fading almost completely out of sight.

That’s why he doesn’t have a cloak.

He blended into the canopy quickly, almost as fast as her own enchanted cloak, he must have cultivated it over a long time.

Focus, be impressed later.

She listened carefully for any clues around her that would inform her as to what the danger had been and it wasn’t long before she noticed the dead silence that engulfed the forest. It was the silence of tension, and it was cut by the sounds of many screams and shrieks in the distance. The hair stood up on the back of her neck. For a moment, she considered slapping her hands to her ears to keep from hearing them.

Uch’l’thein. Should I run? Where is it?!

She struggled to keep calm as the screaming grew much louder. She suspected the tree she was in was blocking her sight.

It's too risky to run, I can’t see it. Spirits where is the thing?

She steadied her breath, only just realizing that she had begun breathing much too rapidly. She almost yelped when a black tendril snaked across the ground beneath her, wrapping around the base of the tree she hid in before being pulled taught. Within a second, many tendrils joined it, wrapping around several trees and dragging its body forward. The screaming was almost right under her and Anar’dea could feel goosebumps rising over her body and she couldn’t help but breathe just a little bit faster.

It’s too close! Please, please don’t stop. Keep going. Whatever the hell you are chasing just keep going. Go. Go. Go!

She saw dozens of tendrils snaking around, feeling for anything at ground level, and creeping just high enough up the tree to make her clench her jaw. Her eyes were latched onto it while it moved, until it was finally right under her.

Oh spirits, why is it so creepy?

The center of the tendrils was an abyss of a mouth with pick-like teeth. The longer she stared the more she imagined falling into that inky blackness. She was too scared to move, and couldn’t tear her eyes away from the shifting mass - expecting that it would turn on her at any moment. The screaming from within it echoed in the dark corners of her mind, where she kept all her nightmares locked: she could hear her family’s screams, see the arrow-riddled bodies and the nightmare she had survived. She bit her lip to keep from crying out.

Thu’lain refused to move, or breathe. It never got easier, hearing the screams. He did his best to keep from looking straight at it; it only invited madness. He counted himself lucky that it was interested in something else; he'd just wait for it to catch it and move on.

What’s it following?

Something was different. His eyes darted across the forest floor, searching for anything that moved. There was nothing for it to be following, so what brought it here?

It never travels without stimulus.

Thu’lain tried to recall if he’d seen anything.

Was it the apex ?

He watched carefully, analyzing how Uch’l’thein moved. It was screaming and shrieking, but it didn’t thrash with wild abandon and tear up everything around it. Thu’lain made and destroyed a dozen theories in moments, settling on one.

It’s travelling.

It was passing under their trees and he didn’t dare move now when it was so close.

Is it safe to avoid it the same as usual?

He checked whether the others were out of sight and could make a few of them out: Tin’lo and Tu’lar were in a bundle of branches and everyone else was either too high in the canopy to worry about or too well-hidden to matter. He looked over to Anar’dea as it passed under her tree and tensed.

She’s panicking.

Thu’lain could only make out her outline in the leaves but he could tell, having watched others panic, that she was poised to flee. He watched a stray tendril creeping up from behind her, snaking its way around the base of the branch she stood on.

She doesn’t see it. If it startles her, she’s dead.

Thu’lain steeled his nerves. He’d have to wait and see; any movement on his part would just mean death.

I can’t even warn her.

Suddenly, the tendril stopped exploring and rapidly pulled back to the central body. Anar’dea’s eyes shot wide open and she tensed to leap away when she saw it whip into view as it fell, but she caught herself with sheer force of will before she had moved too much.

Too close.

Thu’lain watched as Anar’dea closed her eyes and steadied herself.

Strong nerves.

Thu’lain’s attention was drawn to a tendril that had found its way to the apex’s corpse, coiling around and dragging it - quite quickly - toward the central mass, other tendrils overlapping quickly. As Uch’l’thein devoured the apex it began to make sounds as if it were laughing.

It’s laughing. It’s never laughed.

A chill ran up Thu’lain’s spine: Uch’l’thein didn’t have emotions. It was always the same: screams, roars, chitters, and howls.

It passed by them quickly. Black blood covered the forest floor - save for the pristine patch Uch’l’thein had passed over - but everything else was gone, even the gland that Thu’lain had extracted.

Could have lost more.

Once the screams were - far - into the distance, Thu’lain slowly began to move. As he did, his camouflage began to fade. The others likewise started becoming visible and dropping lower to regroup, except for Anar’dea, who remained hidden in her perch.

She’s shaken up.

Thu’lain thought about comforting her, but let out a sigh.

What could I say?

“Anyone see what it was after?” Tin’lo paced back and forth on a branch until Tu’lar held him still, securely grasping his shoulder.

“Nothing, but I kinda wasn’t sticking my head out, either.” Raj’ken took a seat on a branch, taking a moment to collect herself.

Trat’catha was calm, but silent.

Thu’lain shook his head, more focused on analyzing the tracks left behind by Uch’l’thein. There were a few gouges in nearby trees, snapped branches, and dragmarks across the ground like it normally left when it moved, but there was a little less destruction since it wasn’t actively chasing something. He couldn’t shake the feeling that it had changed.

Has it grown more intelligent? Or does it have some kind of rudimentary emotions?

“Too risky to keep on this trail.” He looked forward down the path they had been taking: Uch’l’thein was ahead of them now and he didn’t want to end up catching up to it by accident. The others silently agreed.

“We could head deeper into the forest, into the Rourdan Thicket,” Raj’ken offered reluctantly.

“No, it’s too thick, and poor visibility, we’d be too disadvantaged,” Tin’lo denied.

Raj’ken sighed, “Then, we have to go back west, and the centaur are gonna be patrolling actively.”

“Well we can’t change that, but we know what to look out for, and we’ll keep our mobility. A few centaur won’t give us much trouble,” Tu’lar reassured the others, smiling warmly.

Anar’dea slowly came down to sit on a branch and take deep breaths. She remained silent as she listened to the others start hashing out the logistics of their new travel route. None of them had been in the area for a long while, so could only act on generalizations.

Thu’lain climbed up and stood next to Anar’dea, not quite looking at her.

“You okay?”

She turned to him, pale-faced but looking alert.

“I’ve been better. But at least I’m not dead.” She shook her head, trying to shake off the adrenaline and the light-headedness she felt. Trying to forget again.

“... you held together. I’m glad,” Thu’lain spoke quietly and Anar’dea had to focus to hear him. She looked around as the others continued their discussion, and then looked at Thu’lain.

“Me too…” She took a deep breath, “... me too.” She leaned back, hooking her legs under the branch before falling back into a hanging position. She closed her eyes and was silent for just a moment.

Thu’lain was wondering if he should say anything else when she suddenly swung back up, rising quickly into a standing position.

“Everyone ready? We’re going to have to make good time to get clear of the clan's territory before nightfall,” Trat’catha was keeping everyone moving.

“Alright! I’m ready!” She shouted, hyping herself up and leaping over to the next branch as Trat’catha got the group organized; Tu’lar and Tin’lo took to the head, with Anar’dea and Raj’ken taking up the middle, leaving Thu’lain keeping pace next to Trat’catha in the rear.

They had quite a ways to travel and the massive trees remained as their highways, offering them cover and protection from anything on the forest floor.

The greyscale world around them grew dim as the day started to close to dusk. They adjusted their course north, leaping silently in the canopy, eyes peeled for any signs of the centaurs that could be present below.

They entered into an area of new growth: shorter trees with full branches of leaves to give them cover. The slimmer branches didn’t support their weight as well, though, which caused them to rattle and shake as they leapt across them.

Thu’lain was searching the area from the lead position he’d taken up, trying to see through the gaps in the thicker leaf cover than he was used to.

It’s too thick.

He looked back at the others, noticing how the branches swayed and some of the thinner trees rocked.

We’re too conspicuous. We should have gone around further to keep old growth.

Thu’lain went back to his scouting, hoping they would get through the rest of the centaur’s territory before total nightfall, and before the arghul came out of their nests.

An arrow as long as his arm and thick as a finger pierced through his left arm, slicing through his bicep and piercing halfway out the other side.

“Ach!-” Thu’lain was spinning even as the pain was searing its way through his brain, but he still reached out with his other arm to protect his head before he smacked into another branch - his ribs made a terrible snap as he folded over it, losing his breath.

“Ambush!” He heard Trat’catha call out. The other elves spread out and leapt erratically from place to place, trying to be too difficult to hit. Thu’lain would have been happy with how fast they reacted if he hadn’t been gritting his teeth in pain.

He wrapped his good arm around the branch and the corner of his vision went searing white as he hauled himself up. He took a shallow breath for air and winced. There wasn’t any time to lose, so he brought both feet under him and pushed himself up. Creaking in his chest told him that some bones were definitely broken.

He raised his left arm, ignoring as the muscle and skin tore and gripped the arrow by the head. Thu’lain clenched his jaw and pulled as hard as he could, yanking the arrow through his arm with a growl. Afterward, he let his arm fall to his side, ignoring the blood dripping from the wound.

Thu’lain was ducking down in the next moment and keeping himself concealed. He could see the others were darting ahead of him, some making as much noise as they could. He heard the centaurs below spreading into two groups, one giving chase, and the other -

“Find the injured one! It should be nearby!” A black-maned centaur with a - very - large bow gave orders to the other centaur around him even as the other group split off to chase the rest of Thu’lain’s party.

The agony in his chest was slowly dulling, as did the pain in his arm, from a combination of adrenaline and elven heritage shining through. He began to count, slowing his breathing and trying to focus. The pain kept him from completely concentrating, but it was enough for him to start camouflaging into the canopy.

I wish I’d been wrong.

Thu’lain winced as he heard a popping sound inside of his chest.