The scavanger's yellow eyes flicked back and forth between the two orc sisters, watching them warily as he tried to keep both of them in his line of sight. Rather than circling away from them, he continued to back up, his hind paws edging backwards on what might have been called a path. Slade bared his teeth in a grimace, his canid face full of fear and desperation.
Just as Bula charged, Slade's paw came down on an especially thick strand of silvery cobweb. Using his now-bare foot, he kicked at it, hard, and there was a sound like rope creaking and branches cracking. A huge white snare sprang up from the gloomy forest floor, covering Pasho in sticky webbing. Cursing through his teeth, the Were tried to back up further from the huge powerful Orc barreling towards him. He tripped and fell back, lifting his hand as though the limb could stop the huge axe, but Bula's aim was true, even though Slade had moved.
With a ragged scream, Slade howled his pain into the forest. The axe bit a wide gash down his torso, and his right arm landed in the soil with a wet thud. Blood bubbled down his furry chest and the threadbare garments he wore and spurted from the stump of his arm. He lay moaning in the dirt.
"No...! You've killed her! You killed her, you bitch! You killed my Flora!"
Pasho was thrashing around in the net, succeeding in getting herself tangled, though she wasn't in any immediate danger. Morka had passed out by this point from both the poison and blood loss. Leshy was still some distance away, but making her way quickly towards the sounds of fighting.
And then someone began to scream. It was the sound of either a little girl or a young woman, horrified and shrill, but far off and weak. It was not the little girl Slade had been dragging along, but was coming from the depths of the black, dilapidated house.
Another noise started, a sort of rustling clicking sound that started soft but quickly grew, drowning out both Slade's moaning and the sound of the faint, tortured scream. The cobwebs along the ground began to twitch and wiggle, vibrating like the plucked strings of a harp, the movement emanating from the house.
A pale purple-white creature emerged from a gaping hole in one of the walls, moving slowly but steadily, lidless black eyes focused on Bula as it came, mandibles working silently with insectlike abandon, massive claws clicking. Slade, growing paler and weaker by the second, holding his ruined stump to his bleeding chest, heard the noise and moaned. "No...they're coming..."
Just as Bula charged, Slade's paw came down on an especially thick strand of silvery cobweb. Using his now-bare foot, he kicked at it, hard, and there was a sound like rope creaking and branches cracking. A huge white snare sprang up from the gloomy forest floor, covering Pasho in sticky webbing. Cursing through his teeth, the Were tried to back up further from the huge powerful Orc barreling towards him. He tripped and fell back, lifting his hand as though the limb could stop the huge axe, but Bula's aim was true, even though Slade had moved.
With a ragged scream, Slade howled his pain into the forest. The axe bit a wide gash down his torso, and his right arm landed in the soil with a wet thud. Blood bubbled down his furry chest and the threadbare garments he wore and spurted from the stump of his arm. He lay moaning in the dirt.
"No...! You've killed her! You killed her, you bitch! You killed my Flora!"
Pasho was thrashing around in the net, succeeding in getting herself tangled, though she wasn't in any immediate danger. Morka had passed out by this point from both the poison and blood loss. Leshy was still some distance away, but making her way quickly towards the sounds of fighting.
And then someone began to scream. It was the sound of either a little girl or a young woman, horrified and shrill, but far off and weak. It was not the little girl Slade had been dragging along, but was coming from the depths of the black, dilapidated house.
Another noise started, a sort of rustling clicking sound that started soft but quickly grew, drowning out both Slade's moaning and the sound of the faint, tortured scream. The cobwebs along the ground began to twitch and wiggle, vibrating like the plucked strings of a harp, the movement emanating from the house.
A pale purple-white creature emerged from a gaping hole in one of the walls, moving slowly but steadily, lidless black eyes focused on Bula as it came, mandibles working silently with insectlike abandon, massive claws clicking. Slade, growing paler and weaker by the second, holding his ruined stump to his bleeding chest, heard the noise and moaned. "No...they're coming..."