Lungs burning, bare feet slipping in the freezing mud, the boy sprinted blindly through the claustrophobic trees. The mist thickened into a suffocating wall, but he couldn’t stop. Above him, the canopy shook.
*Swish. Swish.*
The rhythmic, terrifying beat of colossal wings tracked his every move. The hunter had become the hunted.
He risked a frantic glance over his shoulder. Mistake. His toe caught a jagged root, sending him sprawling into a pit of stagnant black water. He scrambled onto his back, gasping for air, and raised his tiny folding knife with a violently trembling hand.
A shadow blotted out the Tyndall light. The giant owl crashed down from the canopy, landing heavily just inches from his muddy toes. Its massive talons sank deep into the earth. The boy squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the tearing beak.
But the strike never came.
Instead, the owl stepped *over* him.
The boy opened his eyes. The colossal bird wasn’t looking at him. Its glowing, furious yellow eyes were locked on the impenetrable darkness of the tree line right behind where the boy had just fallen.
A wet, guttural hiss echoed from the shadows. The ground trembled. Out of the mist stepped a grotesque, towering figure—a rotting, hulking monstrosity clutching the frayed end of a thick, blood-stained rope. The *real* predator. The thing that had tied the giant bird down.
The owl hadn’t screeched at the boy in anger. It was a warning.
Spreading its magnificent, earth-shadowing wings, the giant bird formed an impenetrable shield between the boy and the nightmare. The monster charged with a deafening roar; the owl lunged to meet it with a glorious, piercing shriek.
The boy hadn’t unleashed a monster. He had just freed his only bodyguard.