Several days passed. There'd been no sign of the sheetil; not even a distant scream.... They continued to travel the woods at as fast a pace as they could sustain....Newman's muscles ached for the relief of rest. He was just about to protest to his relentless young guide when Sha'a'an signaled they'd halt for a bit. Their sanctuary was a outcropping jutting up from the ground to one side of a tiny clearing. Sha'a'an pushed her way through the clump of foncil growing next to the formation and nimbly climbed to the top of the mossy rock. While she did so, Newman selected a spot against the base of the outcropping. He was too tired to climb anything. Wearily, he slumped down in the shade of the foncil. "Newman, you better come up here," Sha'a'an quietly called down to him. Newman paid her no mind. She was always demanding more than was needed. He intended staying where he was. Sighing, he leaned back against his pack, relaxing his muscles. He wiped some perspiration from his eyes. As he finished, Newman focused upon some undergrowth across the small clearing. The grasses were moving slightly; yet the air was calm! Alarmed, he'd barely started to sit up when the tallgrasses rent apart as the sheetil sprang in a tremendous burst of speed straight for him. ...In the middle of its leap, the beast suddenly twisted aside. It crashed upon its back, next to him, uttering a hissing snarl. The sheetil pawed furiously at its chest. Then it gave a chilling scream and was still. He was still alive. He shouldn't be; however, he couldn't quite comprehend why he still breathed--and felt--and could smell. Fresh blood tainted the air--not his, though, thank the Powers!--and the strong, musty odor of the sheetil. Above his head, Newman heard the whirr-thunk of two more arrows speeding from Sha'a'an's bow. Only then did he see the arrows deeply buried in the sheetil's chest. Above him, Sha'a'an slowly sank to her knees, feeling light-headed. Her entire body trembled. She glanced down at the hand gripping her bow. Her knuckles showed white, contrasting with the dusky orange of her fingers. "Are you--all right?" she asked in a flat, expressionless voice. "I--I think so, Newman stammered back, shakily rising to his feet. He walked unsteadily over to the sheetil. Thoughtfully, he studied its long teeth and claws. He shuddered, imagining them sinking into his own flesh. From now on, he'd conduct himself in the wilderness in the same manner as his guide. *********************************** Credits: Newman: DAZ M3 figure with head remorphed by me; skin texture by Jepe. Newman's hair and beard: "Fantasy beard" by Anton Kisiel. Newman's clothing: RTproductions M3/M2 Mountain Man by renapd and thip. Newman's pack: Created by me in Bryce 5.5., hatchet and atlal net freebies. Sha'a'an: DAZ V3 figure with head remorphed and textured by me. Sha'a'an's hair: DAZ California Hair. Sha'a'an's bow, arrows, and quiver: AofD's Woodland Ranger, but retextured. Waterskins: Net freebie. Moss-pines and foncil: created by Modualz and textured by Transpond; turned into alpha plans by me. Sheetil: Panther by DAZ original, flattened and widened a bit by me. Everything else by me.