With no chance to elaborate further, a shadow bursts from the ground just below me, with Shayde jumping back a mere instant before it shoots up. The incorporeal forms vanish as I waste no time in following my guide’s example. The creature that comes flying out of the soft earth is absolutely horrifying.

  It has a flat face, its beak lined with a ring of fleshy feelers. As it appears, it spreads its wings, allowing its legs to come into view. There are four in total. The two on the… top? Front? Either way, its forelegs look primed for digging, with long claws that seem to fit together like a large scoop. When I say large, I mean it. The thing has to be 9 feet tall! Its bottom legs resemble a bird’s, with wickedly sharp talons.

  As it flies in a wide arc, its huge, round eyes never leave me for an instant. How, you may ask? Because it’s fucking head spins all the way around in order to keep its sight on me! Which is probably the most unsettling thing I’ve ever experienced. It circles back in my direction, baring its hind legs as it comes down at great speed while somehow remaining completely silent.

  “What the everliving fuck is THAT?!”

  Inner voice cracking with fear, I spot Shayde rolling forward, expertly dodging his own illusory monster. I also notice a strange purple swirl coalescing around him. I intuitively understand that he’s… summoning a box?!

  But why would he be…

  “Human… That’s a mowle… A fully matured one, at that. We have no chance against it. We’re as good as dead…”

  The resignation in Delilah’s internal voice sends chills down my spine, but I still dodge when my guide tells me to. I continue to summon the box that the Umbral Guide is calling upon, still unsure as to what it’s going to accomplish in this situation.

  “Shayde has a plan! If he thinks we can do something, we’ll just have to trust him! He hasn’t steered me wrong yet.”

  While my projected thoughts are full of confidence, I silently offer up a prayer to any that may or may not be watching and listening.

  Blessed Etheri above, please grant me the courage and strength to get out of this alive! I can’t die here!

  After another forty or so seconds of jumping, dodging, and rolling away from the creature, the shadow man stands completely still next to the summoned box. He reaches in, pulling something out and taking two calm steps backward just before the creature digs its talons into the hard, packed dirt. When I see what he’s holding, my bottom jaw nearly falls off with shock.

  That crazy bastard! Is he trying to get me killed?!

  As I think this, the ethereal shadowy forms dissipate before I can see the results of his actions. With great reluctance, I follow his lead. When the monster’s talons get lodged in the ground, before it has a chance to pull them out, I hold a stack of hoglin meat up in front of it, my head turned away, not wanting to see it bite my arms off.

  After waiting about a minute with nothing happening, I sneak a glance up at the creature. What I see confuses me to my core. Its head is turned completely upside down as it stares. Not at the food in my hands, but straight into my eyes. I freeze, feeling all of the blood drain from my face. The unblinking gaze holds my own for a few more minutes, with myself and my two companions remaining completely silent.

  Suddenly, it snaps its head upright, nods once, and gently pecks the first hoglin steak off of the stack, tilting its neck back to allow it to more easily slide down its gullet. It looks back at me, tilting its head to the side as if to ask:

  “Is this what you want?”

  I jerkily nod my head, still terrified of the beast. I’m pretty sure at some point I pissed myself a second, if not a third, time tonight. The creature lets out a loud “hoo!” in what I’m hoping is a sign of happiness. Then it takes the second piece, followed by the third. I continue pulling more cuts of the hoglin out of my box until there are none remaining.

  “No more. I’m all out.”

  Hoping the monster doesn’t satiate the rest of its hunger with the tasty looking aldkin in front of it, I keep my eyes on its chest, where I’m once again praying to the Etheri that it doesn’t take the stare as a challenge. It cocks its head to the left, then the right. Seeing that I have nothing left to give it, it looks up at the two full moons as if in contemplation.

  Oh shit… It’s thinking about eating me! I’m fucked… Goodbye, cruel world…

  Having seemingly come to a conclusion, it turns back to me. Without warning, it turns its head upside down in that unnatural way again, blocking its chest and locking eyes with me. As it slowly moves its head back into place, it seems to want my gaze to move with it as it goes. When its neck is upright, with its stare piercing all the way through my soul, it spreads its massive eighteen foot wingspan to its full glory.

  Rather than flying away, it keeps its eyes firmly locked with mine. Then it… bows? It puts the top of its enormous head within arm’s reach. I stay stock still, not daring to assume anything of the creature’s intentions. Noticing that I’ve done nothing, it lifts its gaze back to mine, which is much more intimidating at this close of a distance. it lets out a quiet “hoo” before proffering its scalp once more.

  Taking the hint, I reach up and place my hand on its head. When I’ve done so, I immediately feel a buzzing from my chest. Then, a deep, distinctly masculine voice enters my head.

  “Gracious Giver, Gahoo’el accepts Giver’s tribute in exchange for bonding of Gahoo’el.”

  Okay… this just took a whole different turn than I had expected it to. Fuck it. What could go wrong?

  “Hello, um, Gahoo’el. My name is Luck. How…um… how are you today?”

  Fuck! That was a dumb question, what was I thinking?

  “Gahoo’el is Gahoo’el for many reasons. Gahoo’el is not only today. Gahoo’el does not fully understand Giver’s question.”

  “That’s uh… not important, I guess. Did you… like the hoglin meat?”

  “Gahoo’el is very grateful. Gracious Giver’s green meat was delicious.”

  “Human, must you bombard the poor creature with inane questions? Let me introduce myself already.”

  “Oh, yeah. Sorry, girls. The cat is Delilah, and this knife is Koa.”

  Delilah’s back arches as she lets off a barely audible growl.

  “I can introduce myself, Human. I am not some prized pet for you to show off at your convenience. I am the superior species among us, and should be treated thusly. Hello, Yahoo’el. My name is Delilah, and I am the leader of this group. You may call me Your Highness.”

  “Ha! Small Morsel thinks Gahoo’el will do that? No, Gahoo’el does not think Gahoo’el will.

  Koa takes this brief lapse in the conversation as an opportunity to excitedly bombard the mowle with her own flood of information. To the big guys credit, he seems to pay attention the whole time.

  “Hi hi hi! I’m Koa! Oh yeah! Father already told you that! Did you know that people use things called rings to buy things? Meany Meowy says that was how Father got me, so it must be pretty cool, right? I wonder what else you can buy with rings? Anyway! There are also things called potions that make different things happen to your body! Did you know that? Did ya?”

  “Gahoo’el—”

  The mowle attempts to respond, but Koa just rolls right over him like a cart over a road.

  There are lots of cool things! If you want I can show you some time! There’s a place for everything!”

  “Gahoo’el will—

  Once again, the rolling boulder of youth plows through unabated.

  “Oh, yeah there’s also—”

  Having decided that maybe I should step in, I take the most fatherly chastising tone I can manage, though a smile creeps onto my lips.

  “Koa, slow down, you’re talking over the poor guy.”

  “Oh! Sorry, Father!”

  “It’s not me that you should be apologizing to.”

  She sends a feeling of realization, as if it only now dawned on her that I was, indeed, the wrong person.

  “Sorry, Diggy Flyer!”

  Several minutes later, after having completed introducing my new companion to the girls in an official way, I’m once again sitting with my back to the wall. The mowle is… standing… in a deep hole. His forelegs are propped in front of him along the bottom, inner edge of the cavity, with his head and neck above ground level.

  “Gahoo’el… I keep thinking of you as a ‘he’ in my head, but I haven’t asked you yet. Are you male or female?”

  A wave of confusion passes through the new branch of my mental bonds, as if the mowle has no idea what I mean.

  “Gahoo’el is Gahoo’el, Giver.”

  Rubbing my hands down my face, I take a few moments to formulate what I want to say, as I really don’t want to have that conversation with the creature.

  “Yes, but… do you… produce young? Or are you the… fertilizer?”

  The mowle’s face rises, giving a slow nod in response.

  “Ah. Gahoo’el thinks Gahoo’el understands. Gahoo have no such difference. All Gahoo produce young. Gahoo have no need of other Gahoo for such matters.”

  “Oh… okay. So… ‘they,’ then.”

  My contemplative look is met with what I assume is the mowle equivalent of a shrug.

  “Gahoo’el cares not for distinctiveness of this. Gahoo’el can be called any of such things. Gahoo’el will not mind.”

  “Got it. I’ll stick with ‘he.’ Simpler that way with your voice. We’re going to have to shorten your name, though. It will be difficult to call you ‘Gahoo’el’ in the midst of battle.”

  “Gahoo’el has no name. Giver may give one as Giver pleases.”

  “Isn’t ‘Gahoo’el’ your name?”

  My confusion displays itself as a blank stare directed at the large creature, to which he responds with something I had not expected.

  “Gahoo’el is simply Gahoo’el’s status among Gahoo if Gahoo’el were to meet Gahoo.”

  “Oh… okay. If you don’t mind me asking, what does it mean?”

  “Gahoo status is based on Gahoo age. Gahoo’ha is first. Gahoo’chi is next. Gahoo’yo is after Gahoo’chi. Gahoo’ad, then Gahoo’el. Last is Gahoo’an. Many cycles before Gahoo’el will be Gahoo’an.”

  As I try to wrap my head around what the mowle, the Gahoo, just told me, Delilah decides to speak up.

  “This is absolutely fascinating! Not much is known about the mowles. Excuse me, the Gahoo. Gahoo’el, could you tell me… How many cycles have you lived?”

  “Gael.”

  My interruption seems to take both the Gahoo and the cat aback. I feel through the bond that Delilah is about to ask about it, but Gael speaks up before she gets the chance.

  “Gael accepts Gael as Gael’s name.”

  “Really, Human? I see your naming sense still hasn’t improved. Let me guess… G.A.E.L.?”

  My face turns red with indignation and no small amount of embarrassment.

  “Well! Maybe…”

  With a sigh, I decide to admit defeat.

  “Yes… that’s how it’s spelled.”

  The snicker that comes from the cat’s corner of our connection causes the color in my cheeks to increase as my embarrassment escalates.

  “Either way. Gael… how old are you?”

  “Gael has flown through 378 cycles, small morsel.”

  “Not quite half my age, then… hmmm…”

  She yells at me for calling her cute names like ‘my lovely,’ but she’s just going to let Gael’s usage of ‘small morsel’ go unchallenged?! Talk about inequality… And ‘not quite half’ her age?! How old is she?!