TW: Physical injuries, Blood/gore

Yam sighed happily as she breathed in the cold night air, glancing up to the blackened sky to see the thousands of tiny stars twinkling in the darkness. All around her, the others were making similar noises of content, all gazing skywards. Bread wove his way around Yam’s legs, chirping quietly, and she crouched down to give him a hug.

“It’s nice out here, isn’t it?” she whispered into the fox-crow’s ear. He turned his brilliantly purple gaze on her, his eyes glowing faintly in the darkness. He cooed softly and Yam gave him a quick pat before craning her neck back again.

The whole world looked like it had been cloaked in an impenetrable black sheet, the only light visible being the tiny white pinpricks that glittered like sand high overhead. The night air was chilly, but just perfect for Yam and Bread, with their thick fur coats, and the frosty breeze provided a calming, refreshing feeling every time the wind blew.

The others seemed less fortunate- their teeth were beginning to chatter, and Ari pulled her hood up over her head, zipping up her jacket. Rolf tightened the scarf around her neck and wrapped her hands in the ends, and Aey simply slipped her hands into her pants pockets. Yam stood up again, still clutching Bread in her arms, the fox-crow chimaera cooing softly. The four of them stood in a circle, back to back, brought together by their mutual appreciation for the night sky and the awe-inspiring wonders it could bring.

Just as Yam began to move, to tell the others once again to get off her lawn, a loud rustle from the trees behind interrupted her. Instantly, she dropped into an attack crouch, claws sliding out automatically. Bread seemed to have heard, too, and he began snarling, staring into the trees, his purple eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“What? What is it?” Rolf blinked at her, voice shot through with worry. The Gnome began to tremble. “What’s there?”

“I don’t know,” Yam growled, taking one slow, silent step towards the shadowy trees. Suddenly, she leaped backwards, landing on her feet and one paw without making a sound. Bread recoiled, a strange, cat-like hissing erupting from his throat, followed quickly by a ferocious growl. Rolf, Aey and Ari each took a step back, eyes wide and looking as if they were ready to run.

“Show yourself!” Yam demanded, eyes fixed on an exact spot high up in the canopy, at least four or five metres above her head. “Now!” When no one appeared, she got to her feet and crossed the empty space between the edge of the forest and her house with quick, light steps. She stopped at the base of a particularly tall spruce tree, paused, and grabbed hold of the trunk, digging her claws into the bark. Aey, Rolf and Ari watched Yam climb higher and higher, bewildered, wondering what on earth she was doing- until they saw Bread bolt after her, somehow scaling the tree in the same fashion as his owner. And then they knew. Yam and Bread must have heard something none of them had- with their nature-adapted hearing and increased senses, they must have realised something- or someone- was there.

Yam and Bread vanished among the night-dappled leaves in seconds, both disappearing into the darkened canopy without a trace. There was a series of loud rustling, followed by a yelp that sounded horribly like Bread in pain. Aey bristled, Rolf tensed and Ari stood there, looking confused. The Tiefling launched herself over the grass separating Yam’s house and the forest, racing over to the tall spruce, setting her feet on the roots to hoist herself up. As she reached a hand up to a branch just over her head, ready to climb the tree, a particularly loud rustle sounded, along with an agonised howl from Bread. Something large and orange fell from above, hitting half the branches on the way down and crashing down on the floor with a loud thump. Dust settled on the bright ginger fur, coating it in dirt.

Aey immediately ran out from behind the tree and crouched by the injured creature, gasping when she saw the large scratch running down its side, blood pooling beneath its broken body, staining the earth and its fur red. Rolf raced up behind her, letting out a wail at the sight of the unmoving body.

“Bread?”

The fox-crow didn’t move. His sides didn’t rise and fall like normal- he wasn’t breathing. Rolf and Aey knelt next to him, helplessly watching the life drain out of the ragged, blood-soaked little bundle.

Suddenly, a horrific, heart-wrenching screech split the air.

“BREAD!”

A loud thump from behind made Aey and Rolf turn; Yam had landed on all fours and was leaping to her feet, racing over towards Bread, diving onto her knees when she neared him.

“Bread, no, stay with me,” she begged, holding Bread’s small head in her paws, her voice shaking uncontrollably. “Please! You can’t go. Not now. Please don’t go.”

Still the fox-crow chimaera made no signs of movement. Not even a twitch of an ear, or a faint puff of breath. His eyes were half-closed and cloudy, blood still pouring out of the wound in his side. Yam carefully laid his head down again and edged over to his wounded side, bending down to inspect the cut. It was deep and ran from Bread’s shoulder down to the base of his tail- in some parts, the wound was so deep bone was showing. Rolf whimpered and squished closer to Aey, who after a moment’s hesitation, squeezed her shoulder comfortingly, still staring in shock at Bread.

“Ari.” Yam’s voice was hoarse when she spoke again. She got to her feet, looking down at Bread’s unmoving form, her eyes darkened and her gaze hollow. “Take Bread inside. You’ll find some things in the bathroom cupboard. Do what you can. Hurry.” She lifted Bread up in her arms, careful not to move the fox-crow too much, and passed him to Ari, who ran inside her house as quickly as she could, shutting the door behind her with a snap.