That’s waaaaaaay more than three ruags. Thought Tim.

Jenkins froze as he heard the footsteps and slowly turned his head to look. A massive Spider-Blood was crawling towards them. He had a beige hue and resembled a Net-casting Spider with indented swirling tattoos throughout his body. His jaws ended with a pair of fangs. There were two massive, menacing amber-yellow eyes, and six beady ones scattered across his forehead, all of which met Jenkins’ gaze. The young man turned so pale that a ghost wouldn’t rival him.

“S-spi … der …” Jenkins whimpered as he passed out immediately. He was clearly arachnophobic. So was Tim. Any bug that had eight or more legs creeped him out. And squirming worms.

“J.K.!!”

“Pathetic *mynah*,” scoffed the Spider-Blood.

Tim would have turned pale too if he wasn’t already red from the blood rushing to his head. But he did get goosebumps as he got a closer look at the Spider-Blood. This guy looks like he just crawled out from someone’s nightmare!

“Uhh … do I sstill have to hold him?” Hyssss asked awkwardly, referring to the unconscious Jenkins.

No one responded as a large Canine-Blood resembling a German Shepherd stepped forward, leaving the Spider-Blood and another Wasp-Blood behind. He was dark brown, with black patches around his muzzle, forehead, and back. “Raknae, Vezpar, stay,” he commanded in a deep, husky voice.

Wazp, Hyssss, and Kobre bowed their heads as they greeted him. “Boszszss,” was what they sounded like in unison.

The Canine-Blood waved them off as he approached the dangling Tim. Wazp dropped Tim before his boss’ feet.

THUD.

The ruags snickered as Tim hit the ground. He had shifted his weight out of reflex and landed on his side rather than — Phoenia forbid — his neck.

“*Yueh oospad j’kreh!*” Tim cursed at Wazp. The world was spinning around him.

“Quiet-z,” demanded Wazp, kicking Tim on his left side. He coughed in pain as he glowered at the ruag. It felt like he was being hit by a metal baseball bat — not that he’d ever been struck by one before. 

“So, this is the mynah who gave you trouble earlier,” the Canine-Blood surmised, unimpressed.

“Yess, Bossss,” answered Hyssss, shuffling uncomfortably as he supported his deadweight. Jenkins’ weight meant nothing to the Blood, but it was unpleasant being unable to move. At least Wazp had the pleasure of tormenting his prey.

“Thiz little-z *puka*-z kicked-z me-z in-z the-z face-z!” Wazp added like a whining child. Tim smirked as he remembered it.

“Yes, yes! We all know that!” said the Canine-Blood unsympathetically.

Tim sized him up. He was well groomed compared to his underlings and stood with good posture. If he were to take a stroll around U’dreg Rookweh, he would have looked like an exemplary citizen. No one would have guessed he was a *ruag*, a rogue Blood, a criminal. The only thing that could have given him away were his slanted, dead, yellow eyes.

“So… you’re Snareel?” asked Tim, still sprawled on the ground, still cringing in discomfort.

Snareel stepped on Tim’s chest roughly, maintaining his straight back. If he had put his whole weight on him, Tim would have been crushed. While they were large in stature, the fact they were made of metal compounded the weight they could throw around. From Tim’s perspective it was like being under the wrong end of a hydraulic press. Tims mind raced as the continuous pressure made it harder for him to breathe.

The average case of shortness of breath can best be thought of as difficulty breathing, not impossible, but just difficult. This was far more than that, it was like the air was being squeezed out of Tim like a tube of toothpaste. At first he was able to articulate his thoughts, plan, strategize, but as the pressure continued to bear down on him, his fight or flight response kicked in. Pushing, fighting, gnawing, but this was the fury of a dying beast, each strike weaker than the last. But just as the deathstroke was near, the pressure let up.

“That’s Lord Snareel to you!” he barked.

The two young delinquents could be heard bickering.

“… Lord-z Znareel-z …” whispered Wazp.

“… Lord Ssnareel!” Hyssss whispered back irritably.

“It seems like you’ve been messing with my underlings — in my turf,” said Snareel, ignoring their annoying squabble.

“U’dreg Rookweh — is no one’s — turf, certainly not — a mutt’s!!” Though his lungs felt as though they were on fire, it was still not enough to deter him from insulting the opponent before him. There was a lot of hissing and buzzing as Tim said this. The Spider-Blood clicked angrily as he visibly tensed, preparing to pulverize him for insulting his boss.

Mynah - Slang for human

Yueh oospad j’kreh - You stupid jerk

Puka - Punk

Ruag - Rogue Blood