Conflict Before War
Chapter 5
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Aahtar Korid gently shook their head, padding slowly alongside the smaller Primal - another centaur. They'd known Sino since the scout was just a cub, their similar rather obvious mutations setting them up as a mentor figure. The sickly, shy cub had grown into a far more confident explorer and scout, and the Chief was glad to see it.
"Regardless, it's good to see you too," The Chief made their opinion known as the small team passed through the tunnels. "Uncertain times require banding together, after all."
"It won't be so uncertain any longer," Sino's tone grew hushed, slowing their pace.
The tunnel ahead was covered with a mass of flesh, spiderwebbing against the walls, the floor. The ceiling dripped with stalactites of meat, unknown fluids spattering across the tunnel floor and slowly growing the mass there. There was an audible pulse, like a heartbeat, but not - more like a thought, a terrible, angry thought. The air was hard to breathe here, as if the thing on the walls was taking it all up. Slowly, Sino continued ahead, stepping deftly around webs of flesh. The Chief followed, head down to watch where their paws were. Few of the team dared follow suit, and Aahtar couldn't blame them, though the pulse could.
Walls and valves of flesh cut off entire adjoining tunnels, artificially creating a dead end - whether it was a trap or just a home for whatever this thing was, the approaching Primals couldn't say. Aahtar beat their wings as if to test whether flight was possible to avoid the mess on the floor, but the air was too thin, their wings caught on nothing and rushed through the tunnel with no resistance.
Sino, slightly more flexible than the rest of the team, managed to twist around the steadily smaller holes until there was no more space to advance, and an uncertain snarl crossed their face as they saw what lay at the end of the tunnel. The pulse grew deafening with a desire to hunt.
"Chief, retreat," Sino shouted, turning back. "We shouldn't have come here."
The Chief squinted. A lone set of armor, massive and filled with spilling flesh and a thick ribcage lay before Sino. The pulse in their heads beat like a fresh kill, and tendrils of meat rushed out of the armor and pulled Sino in. Sinew and tendons started to form, roughly in the shape of the Primal's body but twisted and wrong, massive and made of muscle and flesh. The meat-floor retracted back into the armor, tangling around the Chief's legs,
SHOULDN'T HAVE COME HERE
And the team ran, the pulse still fresh in their mind, now in actual words.
Qaeturna gripped the papers in their hand with something between despair and rage. Assorted papers from assorted shopkeepers, some stating genuine low stock, some stating a refusal to work with Primals for some reason or another. They'd gone against what they stood for, all to speed things up, and here they were. There was no guard here. The entrance was wide open. A strange wind rushed through - whether an actual wind or a trick of the silence, the dark Primal didn't know.
It was all for nothing.
There was a plodding of paws behind them, and Qaeturna spun around - some expression on their face, they didn't know what, but it gave the other pause. The other Primal - Rebel - skidded to a stop with a concerned look on their face.
"What is it?" Rebel crept up next to Qaeturna, peering down the tunnel.
"There's nothing there," Was all Qaeturna answered, mouth dry.
Rebel walked ahead down the tunnel, head held high, trying to ignore the dry scent in the air, the massive shadows creeping along the walls of the tunnel. The young primal turned back, seeing Qaeturna still standing in the same spot, unmoving from shock. They gave a forced smile, friendly though it were.
"We're here," Rebel tossed their head towards the camp and held out a paw.
Qaeturna weakly tried to return the smile and followed after the Rebel, back into the camp where Conflict became War.
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