Walker in the Wood

Pyrrax awoke with a start, eyes darting around the wood. The Calarian red dragon swore he had heard the distinct sound of a twig snapping under the foot of an approaching creature. He stood, stretching his wings to their full span, then exhaled, producing a jet of steam from each nostril that danced and dissipated in the light of the full moon.

"Show yourself!" Pyrrax bellowed. He stood motionless waiting for a response. His fear was replaced by rage as his command was not obeyed. He threw his massive head back with an earthshaking roar, his flame enveloping the stars.

"Heed my warning creature. You will show yourself or I will burn this forest down along with you and the rest of it's inhabitants." He said in a menacing tone. Every creature of Xanthar knew that a dragon made no idle threats. Far more damage had been done for lesser transgressions.

He slowed his breathing and listened. He could hear faint footsteps of something approaching from behind. He turned his massive form to face the direction of the sound. He could tell that the creature walked on two legs and that it was small. Very small. He could hear something else as the steps grew closer. Was this creature...crying?

Small inconsolable sobs were coming from the trees. Pyrrax softened his posture. A small form began to coalesce in the darkness. It became more defined as the creature drew closer. It was a human, a hatchling human. From his time spent among the dragon worshipers of Calaria, he could tell this one was a girl. Her cries grew louder as it came closer. He could hear the fear in her wails.

She stopped a few trees short of the forest edge, hands hanging on either side and looking up at him. Her white dress was stained and her face, still shrouded by the shade of the trees, glisened. Pyrrax felt a pang of sympathy. How did she get all the way out here? He was in the center of a forest that spanned hundreds of acres in all directions. The closest human reserve was a half-day's flight to the South.

"Calm yourself girl," he said in a soft, commanding voice.

"I'm lost," she squeaked, her sobs subsiding with her. "Please Greatlord, can you help me?"

She had been trained to address a dragon with the proper title. "So she was from the reserve," Pyrrax thought.

"Are you from Grenith, at the edge of the grass sea?" Pyrrax questioned.

"Yes Greatlord," the girl said, her voice now steady.

"Which Greatlord do you serve?" Pyrrax pressed.

"Jerra the Dancer," the girl stated plainly. "I was training to be her scale-scour." Pyrrax felt his nostrils flare in annoyance. Jerra was an unbearable boast. Her flight was so nimble and quick that she was had earned the title of Dancer from her Greatsire. She was also responsible for disgracing Torra, Pyrrax's wingmate, after their duel left her grounded for six months with torn wings. The girl seemed to pick up on his temper as she stepped back.

"Worry not hatchling. I am no friend to the Dancer, but you are not responsible for her actions." Pyrrax assured the girl. "How did you find yourself so far into the wood?"

"I was hunting with my father." She said taking a step forward. "We were on a boar's trail when something attacked us just after sundown."

"Where is your father now?" Pyrrax asked.

The girl failed to stifle a sob. "He's dead." She said as she began to cry again.

"Hush now girl," Pyrrax commanded. The girl's sobs grew quiet. "Was it the boar?"

"No Greatlord," she said stepping closer. "I didn't see what got him. I only saw him after, covered in blood and missing his limbs." She trailed off as if she couldn't believe her own words.

"It must have been a white bear," Pyrrax posed. "It's not uncommon for them to hunt your kind."

"No." She stated, taking another step. "This was something different. It wasn't looking for food."

The sudden shift in tone took Pyrrax off guard. "I thought she didn't see what killed her father." he thought.

"How do you know what the creature wanted?" he asked lowering his head.

"It was wandering for days." She said ignoring his question. "Forced to give up it's last home." She stepped out into the moonlight. "Now, it hungers for a new home." She looked up. "A new body."

Pyrrax saw the girl clearly for the first time. Her face shone, not with tears, but blood. "What happened..." he began to ask, but was cut short by the girl's sudden, wicked smile.

"And now we have found one," the girl said in a warped voice. Her body rang out with cracks as it began to contort. Her head separated from her shoulders as she grew a long neck. Her arms extended, claws taking form on each of her digits. Her feet grew forming hind legs like a wolf. The girl hunched over and made it's way toward the dragon on all fours. Pyrrax's disbelief gave way to fear and dread.

"A skinwalker," he thought.

Panic took hold of him. He cast his flame upon the creature, forming one steady torrent bearing down on it and the surrounding trees. He could see the dead flesh of the creatures previous host sluffing away to reveal it's stark white, cryptid figure. It was still making it's way slowly toward Pyrrax oblivious to the inferno that engulfed it.

Pyrrax had to take a breath. As soon as his second barrage began, the walker sprang to the right and broke out into a full run. Pyrrax reared, flapping his wings hysterically. He rose into the air, moving backward, but couldn't get the air under his wings. His limbs flailed as lost control and crash into the trees on his back. He teetered from side to side before managing enough momentum to get to his feet. Spreading his wings, he leaped into the air with a powerful downward thrust of his wings. He was off the ground. Relief washed over him as he beat his wings, his claws brushing the top of the trees.

Suddenly, he felt a shiver running up his spine. No, it was something else moving across his back toward his shoulders. A horrendous, blood-curdling screech rang out as the walker leaped toward his left wing. It pierced the patagium with a sickening tear. Pyrrax rolled to the left, his wing unable to maintain lift. He barreled into the trees below, branches shredding his wings as he slowed to a stop.

After regaining his wits, he slowly got to his feet. He had to keep moving. He had to get away. The sky was beginning to lighten. Dawn was close. If he could fend off the creature a little longer, the sun would burn the beast away.

A howl rang out in the cool morning air. The walker flung itself onto Pyrrax's back. It raised it's claws into the air, hissing wildly, and stabbed down repeatedly at the base of Pyrrax's neck. He flailed wildly succumbing to the panic brought on by the pain. A sharp pain forced the breath from his lungs as he suddenly went limp and numb. His momentum carried him to his back where he remained motionless. He could see daylight coming, the sun mere minutes from peaking over the horizon.

"I was so close," he thought.

A hideous cackle rang out. He could hear it walking up his neck toward his head.

"This body is strong," it hissed. "It will serve us well." Pyrrax could hear its hind claws clacking on his scaled. "We will find your nest and claim it as our own. We will lure your kin to us and take them too." The creature appeared in his vision. "This body will bring forth many of us, when I find a stronger one." It disappeared into his mouth. The last sensation Pyrrax felt was the walker burrowing into his skull.