Chapter 3

Endurance Hunting

I cut through the world to the brewery near Hawkin’s cabin. Margaux arrived a moment later. I lunged for her, claws first, but only clipped her. Blood dripped from my claws and Margaux went sprawling through the flowers.

She ran. I chased.

Margaux was already breathing hard. That’s what all creatures did when they exerted themselves. They needed to breathe harder.

When Barnacle-eyes used to brew spit beer in Hawkin’s brewery, she often had to pause to catch her breath. Boggo often had to catch his breath devouring a number of dreambons. Abigail too stopped to take slow deep breaths after rummaging through freshly tilled soil. All humans needed to stop to catch their breath. Margaux would be no exception.

The moment she stopped to breathe, I would catch her.

Margaux sprinted east toward the maples. I cut through the world and cut her off once more. I snapped my jaw at her but her hair slipped between my fangs.

And if Margaux gets the chance to breathe, then surely she would need to sleep. All creatures needed to.

Barnacle-eyes had gone two days without sleeping, last year, when I’d shared a beer-and-grounds with her. She was sleeping face down, where the black cohosh grew, the very next day. Boggo too had been desperately searching for a comfortable place to sleep since losing his home in the blue bestie colony. When he found himself warm and safe, that was the first thing he succumbed to. When Hawkin worked himself too hard, he often went to sleep early. And when Abigail spent too long reading, I often found her slumped over with her nose performing the role of a bookmark.

All humans had to sleep, and when Margaux stopped to sleep, I would slice her open.

I cut Margaux off where the maples met tall thin pines. I slammed into her body and sent her sprawling. She hit a tree hard enough to break dead branches from it. Debris fell around her. She was back on her feet the next moment and running south.

If she does get a chance to sleep, then surely she must stop to eat. Boggo could never function too long without eating. And though Abigail and Hawkin ate at their leisure, I could hear the protests of their stomachs and I could sense their sour moods when they went without food for too many hours. I saw their energy wane. Barnacle-eyes was proof of that. After a couple of whole onions, she’d be back on her boots and bouncing through her next task. Food revived creatures. So when Margaux stopped to eat, I would catch her then and start chewing her up, legs first.

I cut through the world twice. For the second time, I arrived in the air above the canopy of the wilderness. Margaux arrived a moment later, propelled in flight by magic. I slashed her and she plummeted, followed by a rain of fat drops of blood.

But maybe she had supplies in her private inventory like I did. Maybe she had food and water and she could eat along the way. That’s what Hawkin and Abigail did. Not Boggo, but he still relied on an inventory—mine. Barnacle-eyes also kept a trove of garlic and onions in her own inventory and she snacked on those at her whim. She had water and spit beer with her; even her own tankard and crude wooden bowl. Yes, supplies could sustain Margaux. But she wasn’t being chased by a monster or a vengeful god. She was being chased by me—Thrush! Her supplies were bound to run out. That would be when I caught her. Then I would swallow her enough so that she stands on mangled feet at the bottom of my belly. My tongue would press her to the roof of my mouth like she was cave-squeezed.

I cut through the world to one of Hawkin’s southern trails that wound through a marsh of cattails. I arrived right where Margaux was. I caught her by her hair. She sliced her hair apart with a glass knife and then put on a burst of speed after a snap of fingers and a break of glass.

Magic, yes…Hawkin had magic. I had magic. And magic could only make things easier as long as the mana was available. Hawkin brewed until he couldn’t. Abigail brewed until she couldn’t. Barnacle-eyes leveled her ketch until she couldn’t. I too used mana for Merchant skills, but I didn’t need mana to be Thrush.

And when Margaux runs out of magic, runs out of mana, runs out of supplies…when she cannot stop to eat, nor to sleep, nor to catch her breath… I will catch her then.

After I chew her torso and head and her screams change colors, all that blood will become part of me.

She may be capable of enduring a chase, but how could her endurance ever match mine?

My Satiation fell to 30%. Starvation.